


Ava Davenport and the Curse of Tom Riddle

by FreezePride, TwistingShadows



Series: Alis Volat Propriis [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubious Consent, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Forced Submission, Implied Sexual Content, Loss of Sanity, Mental Abuse, Mind Control, Mind Games, No Romance, No Smut, Possible Stockholm Syndrome, mental manupulation, mentions of past institutionalization, personified horcruxes, there's just a lot of manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:11:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezePride/pseuds/FreezePride, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistingShadows/pseuds/TwistingShadows
Summary: The story of a fiery young woman, whose magical status is unknown, and her journey as she attempts to create some semblance of a normal life while dealing with the personified Horcruxes she accidentally brought back to life. (Written through rps and drabbles.)





	1. And So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you can keep track of the names:  
> Tom is the Diary  
> Riddle is the Locket  
> Cidarim is the Diadem  
> Thanatos is the Ring  
> Ava is an original character  
> \------  
> I know this first chapter was all over the place in terms of content. I promise it gets more organized from here. There is an actual plot for this AU.

Part 1

After months and months of searching, Cassava “Ava” Davenport had found what she had been looking for at a Muggle auction in Little Hangleton. What looked like a crappy, ancient book on the verge of falling apart, Ava knew to be the authentic diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle. It was dangerous and thrilling, holding such a piece of blood-soaked history in her possession, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. Anyone who knew her would be well aware that this was the kind of thing she thrived on, the idea of putting her life on the line in order to curb her insatiable curiosity. Ever since she was little, she had been intrigued by dark magic and, giving into the temptation, began to study it closely. Naturally, her research led her to the story and history of Tom Riddle, known to the wizarding world as Lord Voldemort. She was immediately hooked. How did someone with so much promise end up the way he had? She needed to know more. As much as she could.

The horcruxes were reported to have been destroyed in the Second Wizarding War, but Ava had a feeling that the reports weren’t entirely true. Most of the items were artifacts of power and history. No one in their right mind would actually dispose of them. At least, not completely. If she could get her hands on them, maybe they could provide her with some answers. So she began her search, starting with the most nondescript, the diary. She figured it would be the best to find first, where no one would likely ask questions about a young woman buying a seemingly normal, old book. From there, she could move on to the more recognizable pieces.

She ran her finger across the binding of the black notebook, smiling to herself before taking out her tools and getting to work. She worked through the night, using a combination of common restoration techniques to repair the ruined pages and her personal knowledge of the basilisk to counteract any traces of poison left behind.

By the time she was finished restoring it, she was running on pure caffeine and adrenaline. Without so much as a thought to the dangers of her actions, the young woman picked up her favorite pen, and wrote three words in the diary.

_“Are you there?”_

\-------------

Something felt different, like he had been sleeping for too long and was finally waking up. Everything was fuzzy and still had a filter of sleep though. Then with a rush, the ink that soaked into his pages, everything was crystal clear. He WAS awake. “ _Yes I’m here. Who are you?”_

\----------

She dropped her pen out of surprise. She honestly didn’t think that would work! But it did, and here he was, the part of Tom Riddle trapped within the diary, writing back to her. The pen rolled under her desk, giving her time to think as she crouched down to retrieve it. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, so much she was dying to know. But she also knew she had to be careful. How would he react if he discovered that it was a (self-proclaimed) muggle that brought him back?

She reached her pen and sat down again at her desk. _“My name is Cassava.”_

\--------

The name and penmanship was feminine, and Tom wondered who the girl was and how she had come to possess him.

_“Hello, Cassava. I’m Tom. Where did you find me?”_

He didn’t know of many people with magic enough to restore him after the blow he had taken from the basilisk fang. She must have been very powerful.

\----------

 _“Yes, I am aware of who you are. I’ve been searching for you for many months now.”_ Ava took a moment to think of what to write next. _“As for how I found you, it took a lot of searching, as most are not interested in what appears to be a tattered, old book. I merely asked around and was able to track you down at an auction in Little Hangleton.”_

\----------

Unfortunately this next part is missing, as the writer deleted their blog and I don’t have it recorded anywhere. However, it mentioned Tom being appalled at being found at an auction due to his followers’ negligence, along with asking Ava to tell him more about herself.

\--------

Ava couldn’t help but laugh. Even though she couldn’t see him, she was sure he was writhing in agony upon learning that his precious diary was sold at an auction. Imagine if he found out that it was a muggle auction!

When she read the new words on the page, she blinked. He wanted to know about her? But why? “I’m not that important or anything………. I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell him a little. Just nothing about me or my parents being muggles.”

 _“I do not think I follow,”_ she wrote. _“But, as I said before, my name is Cassava. Cassava Davenport. I believe my ancestors attended Hogwarts at the same time as you, although I doubt you heard of them. I’m 18 years old, and at the moment I am living in a rental flat in London. My friend, Aurora, is an eighth year witch at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I spent a couple years of my childhood in a mental institution because of my early fascination with magic. I was eventually let out, since I wasn’t responding to any of their treatment methods. Since then, I’ve been studying magic as much as I can. Is there anything else you would like to know?”_

\--------

She had been right, Tom hadn’t known her ancestors.

_“A sanitarium, really? In my time they wouldn’t let you out, it was a life sentence. What year is it?”_

Tom didn’t want to let her know that her exclusion of her own magical education was odd, she should have been at Hogwarts, not some flat in London. Not to mention, what sort of parents would allow their daughter to be taken to a mental institution? She was only exploring her natural abilities…unless she was muggleborne…

\----------

 _“I’m sure they wouldn’t have liked to let me out, but I wasn’t responding to anything, and my mother refused to waste any more money on something that provided no results.”_ Outside of the diary, Ava shrugged. It wasn’t that big of a deal to her. Of course, her time spent there made it quite difficult to make friends once she got out. _“Today is June 14th, 2016.”_

Part 2- A Deal with the Devil

“I want to make a deal,” Ava said, her viridescent eyes following the other as he circled her like a hungry hawk. Despite being brought here against her will, she didn’t seem to be frightened in the slightest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It all started approximately ten minutes ago, when two of the Dark Lord’s most loyal horcruxes had apperated into his domain with a very irritated young woman. A couple months ago, she had obtained Tom Riddle’s diary and Salazar Slytherin’s locket. In her restoration of the artifacts, she had unknowingly managed to bring them back to life and given them enough energy to once again take form. Tom, the diary, had been first. The two of them had lived in fairly tolerable coexistence, mostly teasing and quipping at each other, until she had restored the locket. The locket, or Riddle, as he called himself, was much more influential and charismatic than Tom. His connection to Voldemort had been much stronger, so he was easily able to sense that their master had returned once again. Riddle convinced Tom that it was in their best interest to meet with their core self, now that he was back. When they did, they explained the situation and the mysterious muggle girl who had given them a third opportunity at immortality. It was no mystery that he asked her to be brought before him. He had recently obtained the diadem, and this would be an excellent opportunity for him to see what this girl was capable of.

“I’m pleased you’ve decided to grace me with your presence, little bird,” Voldemort said, bowing mockingly. “I’ve heard so much about you from my brothers.”

“I’m sure you have,” Ava replied, unflinching. She repeated herself. “I want to make a deal. Whatever I’m here for, I’m not doing it until I know that no one is going to die or be harmed.”

“Well, little bird, what will you offer in exchange?”

Ava dared to look him directly in his eyes. “My freedom.”

The Dark Lord seemed to consider her before speaking, letting her words hang in the air between them. “You seem to be under the distinct impression,” he began, his words slow, concise. “That your life matters.”

His tone was cold, yet polite. To his left, Riddle shifted slightly, adjusting the buttons on his lapels, as though to remind all present that himself and Tom still existed. Ava, on the other hand, merely quirked an eyebrow and shrugged, as if to say _“maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. Either way, I’m obviously here for a reason”_.

With a measured sigh, the Dark Lord pressed onward. “But my two young consorts seem to think that you have potential. I trust their judgment…..to an extent.”

“You will do as I say and be happy to do so.” Voldemort’s smile was unpleasant, expectant. “Your life is your payment. Be grateful that I am so magnanimous.”

“I cannot guarantee my happiness in performing your tasks, but I will do whatever you ask.” Ava held her head high as she spoke, keeping her face blank and her expression guarded. Despite her claims of being a muggle, her knowledge was more similar to that of a young witch. She was fully aware of what the other was capable of. “All I ask is that you leave the wizarding world, especially Harry Potter and those around him, in relative peace. The exception being if one comes to you or your consorts of their own free will.”

“We have a deal.” He nodded, pleased with the potential of gaining a powerful new toy. Before she could walk away, he grabbed her by the wrist. “But just in case, I have a present for you.” Drawing his wand, he pressed it securely to her left forearm. He then proceeded to brand her with a tattoo of an inky green snake, twisted into a shape that vaguely resembled a “V”.

“This is your brand. Think of it as your very own Dark Mark, as it works the same way. It is a sign of your bondage and loyalty to me, and cannot be removed without my permission. You should be honored, as only the highest in my ranks receive a gift such as this.”

Clutching her burning arm, Ava glared at him. “Honored isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” she spat, trying to ignore the pain coursing through her limb.

 

Part 3

It was one of those nights again. The kind where you can’t stop thinking. Ava lay in bed, thinking, as the clock near her bed displayed a time at which no one in their right mind would be awake. She was thinking about how much had changed since she came here from her hometown a couple of years ago. For one thing, she didn’t talk to her friend, Aurora, as much anymore. Of course, Aurora was likely busy with her magic exams, being so close to graduating. The last time they really spoke was the day she went to that auction a couple months ago.

The auction was another thing that had brought changes into her life. What had started as pure curiosity had become a sticky web she now had to navigate. She had only written in the diary to…well, she wasn’t sure WHY she decided to write in it. Perhaps it was because she honestly didn’t think anything would come from it. After all, it had been over a decade since the war. But something did, and like a moth to a flame she was drawn in. From there she had gone on to collect more, in almost an obsessive manner.

Still, it wasn’t the prospect of the power the items held that kept her going. In her mind, it was almost preventative. Like she knew it was already too late for her. “There is no such thing as a happy ending when you get involved with these things,” she’d remind herself. But maybe, just maybe, she could prevent someone else from making the same mistake.

As the number grew, she had to become more and more guarded. The less they knew she knew the better. Probably. She didn’t have a lot of experience with this, all her knowledge coming from books written by people she would likely never meet. She also couldn’t experiment with her discoveries, lest she be exposed. Too many years had passed for her to be sent to the beginning. The best thing to do was to be aware and on guard at all times. Of course, this was easier said than done, especially with the lack of filter from her brain to her mouth.

These were the kinds of things she thought about as she lay in bed, her blood-soaked possessions across the room, almost glittering with the anticipation of drawing her further into the web of death.

 

Part 4

-Pours Shrinking Solution on Ava's cup- || Cidarim ||

\------

Ava raises an eyebrow. “There are much less childish ways to get my attention, you know. You don’t have to waste your potions.

Since it appears you are awake, I have to ask. Just /why/ did you put shrinking potion on my cup?”

\------

“I thought to, perhaps, reduce the problem at its source.” Cidarim smiles benignly. “Wouldn’t it be quaint, to keep the **little bird** in a pretty little cage? Like Thumbelina, and perhaps we could find you a fairy to keep company.”

\----------

“So you poured it…….on my plastic cup. What, was it somehow offending you?

And furthermore, I’m not your bloody pet! I’m not that small either! You do realize that you’re almost a full foot taller than me, right? How much /smaller/ am I supposed to be?”

((Note: In the ask, they had originally sent it as a typo and meant the potion has gone INTO the cup))

\------------

Smirking, he thrust out a palm and waggled long, spindly fingers. “Until you fit in my palm, Little Bird. Precisely where pets belong.”

\------------

She bats his hand away, her jaw clenched. “I’m not your pet. I don’t belong to ANY of you. I’d rather die than to have the lot of you hold me in the palm of your hands.”

She attempts to move around him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other things to be doing.”

 

Part 5

"Hey Cass!"

Ava dropped the rag she was holding and nearly leapt three feet in the air at the voice. "What the hell Aurora!" She exclaimed, fixing her hair. "Well, I see you finally passed your apparation test. Give me ten minutes to clock out and we can talk."

Ten minutes later, Ava returned from the back of the pub. "It's nice to see you again, Rori. It's been so long!" A genuine smile crept across her face.

"It really has! Too long, I'm afraid! But I'm here now, so we can catch up on everything! I can't wait to see that book you restored a couple months ago!"

Ava's eyes widened and the smile fell from her face. "You don't want to see that." She was NOT dragging her best friend into the mess she'd created.

"You're kidding, right? For months all you could talk about was finding and restoring the damn thing. Of course I want to see it!" Her friend was oblivious to Ava's reaction. "I mean, you're still alive, so it must've been harmless. I guess he really /was/ destroyed."

"......"

"And knowing you, you probably tracked down more," Aurora continued to babble. "What are they like? Are they just as beautiful in person?"

"That's one way to put it," Ava muttered under her breath. ((Get it? Because Aurora is talking about the physical items, but Ava's talking about the materialized personalities.)) "Look. It's great that you came here, however illegal it was-" She put up a hand to stop her friend from protesting. "-but I can't let you see the Horcruxes. I'm sorry. Let me run home and change, then we can go get dinner or something."

Aurora huffed. "Fine. But you're buying."

"Sure. That's fair." With a smile and a wave, Ava started walking back towards her flat.

What she failed to notice was that her friend followed her, a silencing charm placed on her feet. Something was wrong. Ava /never/ refused to share her work, especially if it was something that took her months to complete.

Upon reaching the flat, she performed a simple unlocking charm and let herself in. Ava was nowhere to be seen, but four devilishly handsome gentlemen lounged around her room. With the exception of their clothing, they looked identical. Aurora dropped her wand.

\---

Tom looked up from his chair and tucked his book away. He had expected Ava to return, the little bird back to her cage. He put on his best smile. “And who might you be, my dear?” Tom sounded friendly, welcoming.

\---

Aurora stood there, gaping like a fish. “You….you’re… But I thought….”

“Merlin's beard! I should’ve known you’d follow me, Rori,” Ava exclaimed, coming back from changing her clothes. She sighed. “This is why I didn’t want you to come over. As you can see, they obviously weren’t destroyed. And now we’re more or less stuck together.”

“Cass, that’s Tom Riddle. You know you’re living with Tom Riddle, right? Why didn’t you destroy the book?”

“Trust me, I’ve tried,” Ava glared at Tom and his stupidly false smile. “He just wouldn’t die.”

\---

“Death never really suited us, you see. Call it stubbornness, but it’s just a fact of life.” Thanatos smiled from his perch near the window.

\-----

“The friend’s manners are just as bad as our little bird’s.” Tom mused.

\-----

Aurora whipped around to face the new(?) voice, her eyes growing wide.

Ava, on the other hand, walked over and sat on her bed. “Might as well get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

\-----

“What a beautiful visitor!” Riddle’s voice floated above the rest as he stepped confidently forward. Taking the Aurora’s hand in his own, he smoothly brought it to his lips and gently kissed it.  “It’s a pleasure, my dear. Please don’t be afraid. We don’t bite…” He cooed before stepping back to give her space once again.

\-----

“I…oh!” Aurora’s head was spinning and she blushed at the contact and pretty words. “T-thank you.” She looked over to Ava for assistance. The only response she received was a look of “you-asked-for-this”. Although, Ava did make some sort of gagging gesture at Riddles sickly-sweet words.

\-----

Amused, Cidarim watched Riddle charm this ‘Aurora’ as easily as anyone else. Thumbing a page in his book he recrossed legs and offered a dazzling smile without approaching. “You might want to consider sanitizing that. One never knows where,” Cidarim flicked a finger at Riddle. “That one, has been.”

\----

Aurora almost didn’t see him at first, so she had to look around to find the owner of the voice. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?”

“He’s basically saying that Riddle tends to whore himself out for his connections,” Ava replied. She stood up and clapped her hands together. “Well. Now that we’re all acquainted, can Aurora and I go eat now?”

\-----

“But we were just getting comfortable, I wanted to hear her speak a little more.” Tom pouted cutely. “She seems like she would tell the best stories.”

\-----

A clap of hands and Cidarim stood, book forgotten on the sofa as he glided over to Tom. Long fingers mussed dark hair with a quiet hum. “Why don’t we all join them for dinner? Even being such as we should eat…” Cidarim turned a shark-like smile upon Ava as feet touched the ground and he breezed to Aurora with a flourish of wrist and bow. “Hello, Aurora… you wouldn’t mind if we joined you?” Lashes fluttered and lips parted earnestly.

\-----

Riddle shot a glare at Cidarim and Ava for their biting comments. “They simply mean that I appreciate beauty when I come across it, dear Aurora.” He added, eying her appreciatively.

At the mention of being part of the dinner plans, his eyes lit up with delight. “Oh, what a wonderful idea.” He agreed. “We may not need food for sustenance, but it certainly is lovely to dine among such dazzling company.”

\-----

Ava sneered, her top lip curled in disgust at Cidarim’s triumphant smile, before turning to Tom. “Don’t pout. You’re not a bloody child.” She chided, and moved to put herself in between the young men and her easily swayed friend. “You lot can get your own food. You’re not joining us. And if it’s company you desire, there are three other people you’re free to talk to.”

“I dunno Cass. It could be fun…” Aurora’s head was spinning, completely caught up in the moment. Poor girl. She really had no idea what she’d signed up for.

\----

In mock hurt Tom placed a hand on his chest. “You’re too cruel, Cass. Listen to Miss Aurora, it could be fun.”’ In, what was a rare gesture for him, Tom stood and grabbed Aurora’s hand, kissing it lightly. “How much do you know about me, about my fellow Horcruxes?” He asked charmingly, completely ignoring the eye rolling and almost fuming Ava.

\----

Riddle gave Tom a subtle, approving nod and seemed almost prideful as the younger man stepped forward to charm the young lady. He shot Ava a self-indulgent, satisfied grin while Aurora’s attention was diverted before turning back to the newcomer, a sparkle of hope in his eyes. “It will be so much fun, Aurora, I assure you! I would really love to get to know you better. Wouldn’t you love to spend some time with us as well?”

\-----

“Then it is decided?” Cidarim cooed with a pointed look to Ava. “I do believe majority rules.” Brows quirked and he turned a pout and rounded eyes on Aurora. “She is a true tyrant. You wouldn’t believe the cruelties your friend subjects us to.” A forlorn sigh, wistful as he scanned the bland walls of Ava’s apartment. “Of course we are all quite intrigued by such… promising company.”

\-----

Ava's jaw tensed at Tom's mocking use of Aurora's nickname. She hated being called "Cass". The only reason Aurora was allowed to use it was because she always forgot, and Ava was long past reminding her.

"She's really not that bad," Aurora said in response to Cidarim. "You should have seen her when she was younger. Sometimes I can't believe she's the same person! But I would definitely be interested in getting to know you all. Textbooks only have so much information in them; even less over in America. Please, Cass? Just this once?"

"Fine," Ava spit out bitterly, trying to ignore everyone's blatant attempts to piss her off. "But I'm not paying." She knew she couldn't win this one, no matter how hard she tried. Damn cocky bastards. As much as she wanted to tell them to go ahead without her, she wasn't about to let her best friend willing walk away into the lion's den. Aurora was lucky Ava loved her enough to suffer through a meal with them.


	2. The Downhill Slope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is further drawn into the web and personalities start to shift.

Part 1  
Tom ran a hand though his hair and sighed, it had been a long day. He loosened his tie and flopped down hard on the small creaky bed, tossing aside his normal air of calm confidence. The heels of his palms pressed hard to his closed eyes.

The day hadn’t gone as he planned.

He had lost Riddle.

He blindly reached for a pillow and tossed it across the room, screaming in a rage that had finally bubbled up.

FUCKING LOST HIM!  
-  
They had gone to see the Dark Lord, bring to his attention the deviousness of the Diadem Horcrux that had taken to calling himself Chidarim. The bastard had been syphoning energy from Tom and Riddle for months now, and had kept them from taking on their permanent physical forms. Had kept them weak. No wonder he could levitate as if it were nothing, he must have been brimming with power.

Tom had been furious. As soon as he had explained to Riddle the full implications of the magic Cidarim was using against them, his anger matched Tom’s. Tom had initially wanted to take out the Diadem, but Riddle had convinced him that it was best to inform the Dark Lord.

“I found this.” Tom placed the notebook on the desk of Lord Voldemort, open to the page of the spell Cidarim had cast. “He’s been doing this to harm us, I know it.”

“We wanted to make sure you knew,” Riddle added, trying to sound neutral, though it was hard for him to contain himself.

Long fingers ghosted over a passaged and then He pushed the journal back. “Of course I knew, my loves. I was the one who told him to do this to you.”

Tom paled, then his cheeks flushed with indignation.

Riddle, who had always been more passionate with his feelings, exploded at this betrayal. Tom didn’t hear his words, he felt like he was in a vacuum. He only stood there dumbly as Riddle threw his hands in the air and paced with fury. All the while noticing the frown deepen on His mouth.  
Riddle was too caught up, he wasn’t noticing.

Tom tried to snap himself out of his stupor, but by the time he reached out to stop Riddle it was too late.

Voldemort had his wand out, pointing it under Riddle’s chin. He shot a quick glance at Tom and, with an iciness he had never heard, told him to take his leave.

It took everything in him not to sprint from the chambers. When outside he disapparated with a pop.

Dread filled him as he walked up to their flat.   
-  
With a flutter Tom finally opened his eyes, and glared at the ceiling. He needed a plan, because he was going to get Riddle back and they were going to destroy this fucked up dynamic their older self had created. Lord Voldemort’s time was coming to an end, there was going to be a new order.

Part 2  
Silence felt overwhelming between them. Riddle glared daggers at his lordship and, in turn, the Dark Lord was all too willing to glare murderously back. After Tom had been rather unceremoniously dismissed, it only left the two of them, contending between feelings of rage and betrayal.

“How dare you do this.” Riddle snapped. The tip of the Dark Lord’s wand dug a fraction deeper into his neck, but the rage coursing through him would not allow Riddle to back down. “You know how hard I’ve worked to collect that energy. I’ve been tireless in my efforts! Unwavering in my loyalty!” His voice had grown curter, the edges of his words more jagged as he went along. “You used me and you hid the truth all this time! You had me laying like some common bitch!” Riddle spat, seething with anger, about to shove the wand tip away. “How dare you-”

Riddle choked, the chain from the locket tightening around his neck. The world seemed to swirl before his eyes before he realized that he had hit the floor. Hard. Somewhere behind them, Riddle heard the telltale signs of an all too familiar bookshelf creaking out of place to reveal a rather mundane looking hidden doorway. For all of the lack of flashy magic, Riddle gasped, his eyes widening in terror.

“N-No!” He cried, clawing at the ground, his voice strained from the tightening chain. “You can’t do this! I won’t be silenced!” He shrieked as the Dark Lord’s magic seemed to effortlessly, wordlessly drag him forward to the room.  “I gave you everything!” Riddle cried as though it mattered.

Voldemort motioned with his wand and Riddle ceased to exist. In the place of the beautiful, broken man on the ground was a heavy locket, inlaid and glimmering enticingly with emerald gemstones. The Dark Lord picked it up, holding it aloft for a moment and looking down at it with an exhausted listlessness. A touch of regret? A modicum of remorse? Or maybe just disappointment. He stepped through the door to reveal a small alcove and a neat pedestal. He placed the locket on the pedestal and cast the proper, power draining wards before leaving, closing and hiding the room once more.

One day passed. The rage filled pulses of angry energy emanating from the hidden doorway were stifling and overwhelming. The betrayal was still keenly felt, it seemed.

A second day passed. The feeling faded, shifting into a weakened re-consideration of previous actions, a general feeling of lethargy.

A third day passed. There was the subtle feeling of pleading.

The fourth day was silent.

Lord Voldemort waited a week and a half before he opened the door once again. He withdrew the precious jeweled locket and carefully removed it from its pedestal and out of the room, away from the draining wards and the thick, cloying, dark magic he had cast. Whispers of power emanated from it, yet only in shadows and echoes.  The subtle heartbeat of the locket was barely present, and yet the Dark Lord seemed all the more empowered for it. Perhaps even because of it.

He settled into his usual reading armchair and slipped the locket around his own neck. It only took a moment longer before ghostly pale fingertips ran tentatively along the chain, settling on his shoulders, trembling in both fear and anticipation. A silence settled, yet this one remarkably different. This one was unquestioningly controlled by the most powerful.

When he finally deemed it appropriate, the Dark Lord sighed and peered down at the figure before him. Riddle had taken form as much as he could manage. The locket was barely a ghost, sitting upon the Dark Lord’s lap and looking pleadingly up at him. His lips were moving, as though he were chanting, yet his voice was below a whisper, even in the close proximity they were holding. The Dark Lord put his hand on the other’s cheek, letting the contact give him just a wisp of energy to give him a voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean a word of it. Please, believe me.” Riddle continued on, his eyes wide, fearful as he clutched at the chain as though it would bring him some sense of comfort.

“You cannot let this happen again.” The Dark Lord articulated slowly.

“No. Never again. I would never. My heart, my soul, I would not betray you. Please, believe me. Please, I am so sorry.” Riddle was silenced by a single finger placed on his lips. He paused, trembling, willing himself not to glance fearfully at the doorway. They stayed there in controlled silence as Riddle slowly began to fade once again, those ghostly translucent fingers slowly relinquishing their hold on the chain, on his master.

Finally, the Dark Lord’s expression softened considerably as he reached out to pull Riddle back into existence, stroking along his cheek and hair. The horcrux had barely taken form, and yet his beauty and appeal were still apparent even beyond a shadow of a doubt. “No, you won’t.” The Dark Lord confirmed. With a huge sigh of contented relief, Riddle was finally allowed the energy to take form. Gulping down shaky breaths, he found himself suddenly thankful at the prospect of even having lungs to breathe with. Taking the Dark Lord’s hand in his own, he kissed it over and over again, holding it as though it were reverent, precious.

“You will faithfully serve me.” The Dark Lord continued, his voice soft with understanding as he took Riddle’s chin and lifted his attention back up to meet his eyes. “There is far too much at stake now for these childish games, Riddle. You know this. I punish you for your own good. I hurt you because I care.”  He looked expectantly at him.

Riddle nodded weakly, whispering. “I deserved it. You care for me, that’s why I must be punished. I was a fool.”

“And I need you to help me now, do you understand?” The Dark Lord’s voice was soft as velvet now.

Riddle nodded even more vigorously, looking with longing at his more powerful counterpart.

“You’re the one that will be my eyes and ears. All of your brothers fight among one another. You must be there to bring peace, to take note of all those who may be against that peace. You will keep an eye on Tom, will you not? I know how much of a connection you share with him.” He paused, looking expectant once again.

“Yes, of course. Yes, I will bring the peace. I will bring peace for you, my lordship.” Riddle breathed, his body filling with euphoric energy even as they spoke, the sensation and thrill of being alive, having a body at his disposal was pleasure beyond words.

There was silence between them once again, a silence of hard won battles, of dominance, subservience and acceptance. There was a mere breath of space between the two of them. Riddle’s voice was strikingly timid, unsure and so very much unlike him when he spoke again. “Did you miss me?”

“Every single night, my beautiful trinket.” He leaned close, their lips met. Riddle finally felt complete.

Part 2.5, Meanwhile - Thanatos  
“Hello Tom Riddle.”

Thanatos, normally relatively calm and collected, found himself looking around wildly in his foggy, ill-lit surroundings for the source of the voice. Eventually, his eyes settled on the boy, no older than ten, who stood before him.

 “Who are you?” he demanded, struggling to believe that the inhuman voice came from someone so small.

“A friend. A stranger,” the creature (Thanatos refused to regard him as a human, let alone a child) responded. He began to circle Thanatos, his pace slow and calculating. “I can assure you we’ve met, although I highly doubt you would remember. You were only a baby, after all. But your mother’s time was long expired, and I was merely doing my duty.”

Thanatos tensed at his words, digging his nails into his hands in an attempt to contain his anger. He didn’t have to say anything, his face displayed his obvious rage.

“Since the moment you understood your own mortality, I’ve been with you. Lurking in your mind, haunting your every thought,” Death continued. He smiled, a chilling curve of the lips, made even more unnerving by the young appearance he held. “Ironic, isn’t it? That the name you took is one of my own? Perhaps, despite your innate fear of me, you wanted me to come. Perhaps you thought if you met me, you’d be able to find a way to delay the inevitable.”

Fear turned to defiance as Thanatos glared at his companion. “If you have come to take me, I refuse to go. I’ve been given yet another chance, and I will not be wasting it. As long as I exist I will defy you.”

Death sighed, aging himself to become a mirror of the other’s form. “If I wished to take you, I would have done that by now. You see, the situation is much more complicated than even /you/ can comprehend, Tom Riddle. When you split your soul, you made it irritably difficult to collect you. If any part of your soul was to be destroyed, disaster would befall us both. I would not be able to have my bounty, but you, you would fare much worse. You would be trapped in a place more horrible than your wildest nightmares. There would be no power or glory, no living nor dying. Only pain and illusions. It would be worse than your time in my resurrection stone, with the added notion of no hope to escape. Therefore, I am here to make a deal.” He paused, letting the information sink in.

Minutes passed before Thanatos spoke, hesitantly. “What exactly are you offering?” As detestable as it was dealing with the ghosts, he couldn’t bear the thought of being somewhere worse.

“Simple. I wish for you to become an…….avatar of mine. An extension of my being, so-to-speak. Obviously I want all of you, but you will suffice for now, as you seem to be the only one I am able to contact at this time. You would have your immortality, and will be able to use your particular talent of inventing creative ways for one to die. I admit I have found that quite amusing in my observations of you.”

Thanatos stared at him in shock. Death was offering him what he so desperately desired? Was this a trick? Nothing in all of his extensive research mentioned anything like this. Death did not just offer immortality. “I assume there is some sort of payment?”

Death grinned, a flash of a skull seen in that brief moment underneath his face. “Naturally. Nothing is ever free, after all. There are things you would have to give up, but they would be gradual. In the event that you agree to my terms, I will tell you. But know that, once you say yes, it is binding forever. Even if your answer is no, I will wait. I am patient and I have a feeling you will change your mind, especially when you discover what has happened to your locket counterpart.”

Death began to fade away as the world around them shifted and began to disappear. “I will let you remember this meeting of ours. Take your time to make your decision. I will await you here.”

Thanatos awoke with a start.

Part 3  
Riddle wandered in, walking slowly and carefully in measured steps, as though trying to keep his entrance both quiet and natural. Unfortunately, Riddle was anything but subdued and the effort did not suit him. "Tom, did you miss me?” He said with a small smile.

Toms head snapped in the direction of the voice, his eyes wide and his heart racing. He dropped the book he had been reading and it clattered to the ground, but he didn’t pay it any attention. “You’re back?” He sounded disbelieving.

“Of course I’m back! Where else would I go?” Riddle laughed, though there was something remarkably tired about him, between the unnatural paleness of his skin and the way he seemed all too willing to avoid his usual attention grabbing ruckus. “How have things been since I was away, hmm?” He asked, making it sound like some kind of unconventional holiday he had gone on.

Tom’s eyes narrowed, Riddle looked almost sick. He ignored the question and moved closer to his taller self. “What happened to you?” He reached a hand up to place a hand on Riddle’s pale and sallow cheek. It wasn’t just his physical appearance. Something was off, his presence normally filled the room, and he look awkward and meek. Anger flared up in Tom, it must have been worse than he imagined. “What did he do to you?”

Part 4  
“Get some sleep!” said as Thanatos as he tried to gently tug Riddle to bed.  
—  
“Don’t be ridiculous, dear. I’m fine.” Riddle grumbled, rubbing his eyes in annoyance as he tried to stifle a yawn. He needed to continue his studies for the Dark Lord’s sake, and these books needed his full attention. He heaved a sigh and continued doggedly on.  
—  
“You’ve never been so dedicated in your studies before, Riddle. Not even for the Dark Lord. What happened during the week and a half you were gone? Is there something you’re punishing yourself for? You almost never collect energy the way you used to, if at all, and what energy remains goes into exhausting yourself on his behalf. What did he do to you?” Thanatos couldn’t help but notice his brother’s ashen face. With his pallid complexion and dark rings under his eyes, it would be easy to mistake Riddle for a phantom.

It didn’t seem like Riddle intended on relenting in his studies, so Thanatos instead sighed and walked to the kitchen. He poured the last steaming cup of tea into a mug, but not before adding a bit of his (technically the stone’s) energy to the mixture. He returned to Riddle’s side, setting the cup down next to him. “This should help you stay awake if you insist on staying up all night.”

—  
Riddle gave him a tired smile. “Who else would I be working for, hmm?” The statement might have been biting if Riddle hadn’t been looking up at his counterpart so fondly. The concern in his voice was refreshing, even if he knew it was quite fake. They were sociopaths, after all. “I’m not as exhausted as I look, but I really do need to get this work done. It’s nothing to be concerned over, Thanatos. I promise you. I’m fabulous, as per usual.” He laughed, turning the page of his book and settling down to reading once again.

The cup of tea was set before him and he couldn’t help but feel a hint of relief. Thanatos seemed to be thinking on his toes and for that, Riddle was overwhelmingly appreciative. “Thank you, dear.” He commented before picking up the mug and taking a sip.

What…the hell?

The energy hit him as though he had just swallowed molasses. He choked, gasping, feeling the surge through his body, cloying and addictive. He had the urge to ravenously consume the rest of the drink in a heartbeat and at the same time, the fear and common sense to know that this energy was not his, not familiar. Foreign. Dangerous. He looked up at Thanatos’ understanding expression, his own face tight with anxiety and fear he had not meant to slip through the cracks of his own carefully constructed facade. 

“What was that?” He demanded, his voice shaking with the burst of power he had just consumed and the horror of where it may have come from.  
—

“Energy I have been generously given,” he answered, fingering the ring on his hand. He was lucky, not having to depend on their lord for an energy source, although it still had its costs. “There is no reason to depend on our lord, brother. He is mad, perhaps the most mad of us all. He only makes time for us when he is bored with his Death Eaters. He has abandoned us, his most trusted consorts.”

“Tom has been worried about you in your absence. You’ve changed, but you won’t tell anyone what happened when you disappeared. I assume Tom has an idea of what went on, but he will not tell me anything. Even the little bird seems to know something more than I do. To be blunt, I do not trust our lord. He abuses our distrust of the world and spins it so the only person we trust is him. He holds control over us, something I know we all despise. No Tom Riddle likes to be controlled, whatever form we are in.”  
—  
Riddle locked eyes with his counterpart, yet he couldn’t bring himself to believe what he was hearing. It was exactly what he had suspected, exactly what he had feared, but to actually see his fears recognized in such a blatant, bold way was something he could not have ever dreamed of. They all tended to work in secrecy, in applying strategies and manipulation. They never worked in the obvious.

It was like murder in the light of day: simply distasteful and uncomfortable to a certain degree.

Riddle tried to keep calm. This energy that coursed through him was sickeningly sweet, overpowering and obsessive. Even as they spoke, Riddle longed to grab the mug and down the contents (not to mention pouncing on the next best source, Thanatos himself). He took a deep breath. “You tricked me. You fooled me into consuming this power. Why would you do such a thing?” Even now, he fought his urges, folding his hands before him to keep them from shaking from the rush of energy and the adrenaline.  
— 

“Because it was necessary.” Thanatos knew he was being vague, but he didn’t care at the moment. He just wanted Riddle to know. To know how painful it was to see him so dependent on someone so fair-weathered. He sighed. “I don’t know. I just want to help you.”

—   
Riddle’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he processed the meaning behind those words to the best of his ability. He wanted to help…

  
“Do you pity me, Thanatos?” He articulated carefully, trying ignore the pull of the energy at his fingertips. “Do you think me weak?”  
—   
“No. Not on purpose, at least. I know you are not inherently weak. But I fear that someone else may be deliberately trying to make you so. As I said before, you’ve been denying yourself. Going against your natural tendencies.”

He wasn’t sure he was getting through to Riddle, but a seed planted was better than nothing.  
—   
Riddle was carefully quiet, listening as Thanatos attempted to make his connection, his justification, his flimsy explanation. 

“You must think me quite simple.” His glare was venomous as his smile was sickeningly sweet. He gathered up his books and moved to leave.

But there was no denying the uncertainty that lay within Thanatos’ words. If his Lordship was trying to make Riddle weak, then Tom was correct: they were being made fools of. If not, than Tom, and anyone who had moved against the Dark Lord was forfeit. Riddle was caught dangerously between, at risk of being pulled apart.

Part 4.5, Meanwhile- Tom  
Tom sat huddled in a shack. It was not much larger than the pitiful room Ava had provided him, but it was in a state so sorry he wondered why he had picked it in the first place. The wind howled, rain thundered on the tin roofing.

He was cold.

He was miserable.

He was on a mission.

One that, unfortunately, required him to restrict his magic. They could track him if he cast even the most simple of spells, and he wasn’t willing to risk it. Not after he had finally cut ties with them.

His heart ached.

Part 5

After a long night out, and an even longer day, Thanatos finally returned to the flat and entered the secret wing where he currently resided with his ‘brothers’. Digging into the pockets of his cloak, he fished out a half-eaten chocolate bar. He broke off a small piece to eat as he made his way to what he assumed was his room. Even if it wasn’t, he was too tired to care at the moment. He just wanted to take a short nap before returning to his work. There was still so much to be done, even at such a late hour. He hoped Riddle wasn’t lurking about. Riddle had been extremely moody lately and Thanatos was not feeling up to dealing with his sulky nature at the moment.

—   
He wasn’t bitter.  Riddle kept telling himself that as he went through the usual motions of running the fortress.  His lack of replenished energy was dragging on him. The familiar feeling of fatigue, exhaustion and irritability giving his usual smooth, dulcet tones a snappish nature. All the while his brothers accounted for other various activities that needed to be accomplished around him. 

Various activities, indeed.

Thanatos had been absent for far too long. If Riddle even tried to reach at the tentative link he held with his Lordship, the Locket could bitterly sense that he had already been satisfied. It didn’t take a mastery of addition to put the two together, and it didn’t take weathering this time apart from his main source of power and comfort any easier to know he was so easily, so quickly replaced.

This was probably why Riddle couldn’t quite help himself when he heard someone enter his quarters. He jumped, hoping against hope that it was him and finding, with disdain, that it was Thanatos instead. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched that idiotic trinket enter, unnoticed by his counterpart. He stepped smoothly into the room from the shadows, a wicked smirk playing at his lips, yet his face just a touch too pale to be considered ‘healthy’. “Well, well, well! Thanatos, what a surprise.” He purred. “Yet you look so dreadfully exhausted. One wonders what you’ve been up to all this time.”   
—   
Great. It was just his luck that the room he had absently wandered into was Riddle’s. And to make matters worse, Riddle seemed to be bent on being a pain in the ass. Thanatos was already exhausted, he didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Our lord called, and I answered. Simple as that,” he responded irritably. He probably should have felt more sympathy for his older self, given Riddle’s gaunt pallor, but Riddle was just so damn aggravating it was hard for anyone to be kind. “He wanted to do some more of his experiments on me. They left me drained, so just fuck off, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

He briefly wondered if it would be possible to sneak off and retire to his room. Sometimes he had to question his lord’s judgment when it came to allowing Ava to house them all in one place. So far nothing good had come of it.

—   
Riddle gasped dramatically as Thanatos threw callous words in his direction. How very crass and ridiculously low class of him. Didn’t he know better? They were leaders of the poor, puny mortals of this world, they had to set an example.

“Such language, Thanatos! Really, now, was that necessary?” He chided, moving closer to his counterpart.

Riddle was all too familiar with his lordship’s mastery and experimentation. He felt anger bubbled up within him as he fought to contain his rage, to control himself. “So interesting, that you should even be called on with your nature being so questionable and…unpure.” Riddle’s lips curved into a wicked smile.  
— 

Thanatos very uncharacteristically rolled his eyes. He was too tired for this. “I don’t see anyone worth performing for,” he responded, eyeing Riddle warily. “Unlike you, I see no need to keep up a charade in the privacy of my quarters.”

The purity comment cut, but two could play at this game. “Our lord decides who is questionable and unpure, not you. Besides, it is because of my intriguing nature that he calls on me. Unlike you, with whom he seems to have lost interest. I believe that would be the best indicator of worthiness here.”

—   
Riddle’s smile vanished, replaced by an unbridled look of rage which marred his beautiful face. “Indicator of worthiness?” He snapped, looking venomously at his counterpart, closing in on him until he was far too close for comfort.

“Who is it that attends to our fortress? Who deals with our Followers when his Eminence is away? Who is it that ensures the unquestioning dedication of the Death Eaters and their undying love? Tell me that, trinket!” Riddle’s hungry expression was all the more threatening when framed in rage.

“You’re nothing to him. A diversion, a passing fancy…” he paused savoring the word before whispering “A freak. He’ll soon tire of you.” He looked over his young form with a smirk of amusement.  
— 

Thanatos visibly sensed. Despite his discomfort at the lack of space between them, he couldn’t let Riddle win. “I’m not the trinket, Riddle. You are. My home is a relic of power that you cannot even fathom. Yours is nothing but a charming accessory. Even after given new meaning by our lord, your power is limited, nothing like the endless bounty of mine.” He spoke calmly, a simmering anger behind his voice. “I may be a freak, but I’m still better off than you.”

—   
Personal bubble issues? Riddle had almost forgotten that phase of his life. Yet, he would have thought that after his time spent ‘experimenting’, Thanatos would have finally gotten over himself, yet here he stood, tense as ever as Riddle drew closer. Testing him, he ran a fingertip slowly across Thanatos’ collarbone.

  
“You dare insult the legacy of Salazar Slytherin himself? You forget your own bloodline, Thanatos.” He hissed, his voice a velvety soft whisper, his eyes more threatening than ever. “You think yourself above the greatness that has come before us? All of that tea and chocolate has gone to your head.  That ‘artifact of power’ has made you delusional, corrupted you into something filthy.”

The fingertip moved slowly upwards, traveling along Thanatos’ pale neck, softly, lovingly. “He’s my source of power, you know. He provides it to me personally and I won’t stand for you getting in my way.”  
—

Thanatos forcibly knocked Riddle’s hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he growled, backing up slightly in hopes of putting distance between himself and Riddle.

“I am no filthier than you, /brother/,” he continued angrily. He curled his hands into fists to resist the urge to strike Riddle across the face. “My ring has been just as treasured as your locket. Besides, do you really think that Salazar Slytherin wanted his bloodline to end up like that wretched uncle of ours? Living in filth and squalor? No. We did him a favor by liberating this ring.

Then again, it is not like Voldemort cares about you. After all, you bear the name of our disgusting muggle father. You let him control you and keep you starving for energy and attention. He knows how badly you need his energy, yet he has given you neither. Maybe he has finally realized what you are to him. Nothing but a burdensome leech.”  
—   
Thanatos was scrounging around for details to throw back at him. Even swatting away Riddle’s hand had been a subtle plea for distance. He could tell that his counterpart wanted nothing more than to get away, but Riddle wasn’t having it. He stepped forward after him, closing the space yet again, reveling in his minute advantage.

But then he said it.

The questions poured out of Thanatos’ mouth. Rage bubbled beneath the surface, barely veiled by shock as the words kept washing over him. Why this name that Tom had hated so much in the past? Why this beautiful, alluring physicality that Tom had been so keen to destroy as soon as he could? The Locket was created at the turning point between charismatic leader and fearful overlord. Riddle was the last whisper of manipulative beauty, the last echoes of tactful navigation through social circles for power and connections.

It had been Riddle’s efforts, way back then, which had gained Voldemort’s foothold among high society. Riddle’s careful, clever and alluring presence that had made him the talk of the town, the most beloved of the upcoming new faces.

Riddle remember hating every second of it, remembered how his skin crawled every time he was forced to be a gracious, pretty little toy for the higher society to position and marvel at. He remembered creating the locket with the purpose of leaving all of that behind.

That’s what Riddle was then: beauty, manipulation and lust. A tool for collecting loyalty and attention, while his better efforts were directed elsewhere.

“Shut your damned mouth!” Riddle shouted, looking about ready to snap, the hunger turning him nearly animalistic in his rage. “You know nothing! You speak nonsense and you threaten our cause!”  
— 

“Then enlighten me,” Thanatos replied shakily. He found himself breathing hard out of fear as his back hit the wall behind him. He didn’t understand what nerve he had hit. There was such a vast amount of differences that separated them. The most prominent being how often Riddle used touch and seduction. Thanatos could do charming as well as the rest of them, but he chose to keep his distance like Tom. Riddle on the other hand, he used his brand of charm so often it was honestly scary. Sometimes Thanatos found himself wondering what it would be like to gain that sort of attention.

—   
Riddle noticed the fear. He felt the quickening of Thanatos’ breath and could almost hear his counterpart’s heart hammering in his own ears. Strange, how a passion for anger and fear was so deceptively close to a passionate exchange in general. Riddle would know, wouldn’t he?

The anger, the self-loathing came back in waves and Riddle felt a shudder run through his lithe form. He slammed his hand into the wall just beside Thanatos’ head, unwilling to strike at the other man, yet unable to let his anger slip through his fingers. 

“He gives me what power I need. I have no right to ask for more, but I won’t have you stealing away what’s rightfully mine!”  He was speaking in a mad, violent whisper now. “I’ve been punished when I was deserving of it.  You know nothing of sacrifice, Thanatos. You’re a child. A distraction.”  
— 

Thanatos flinched as Riddle’s hand crashed into the wall beside him. It reminded him too much of his lord when he was angry. However, Thanatos would gladly take that anger, as it was a way to test his limits. Not to mention that he often earned that anger in his tendencies towards defiance.

“You are wrong, Riddle. Don’t think you’re the only one he punishes. He punishes me too. I think he’s scared of losing me as a counterpart, as I can’t take his energy. He’s tried many times to force it on me, but it doesn’t stick. It’s a waste of his time, but he doesn’t believe me…” He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

—   
The sensation came suddenly, it gripped at Riddle’s stomach and twisted into a tight knot. It pulled at him, tugging at what little he knew of the emotions he could muster. Fear mixed with self-loathing. Confusion married to horror. Paranoia pervading over like a miasma and it certainly wasn’t stemming from him.

Riddle concentrated. Yes, just as he had suspected. Thanatos…

As the younger man spoke, it was clearer and clearer exactly how young his counterpart really was. Barely two decades old at the time that he had made the Ring, his naiveté was as clear as the discomfort on his counterpart’s face. Their Lordship had clearly put him through some rather trying tests, but his reasoning had been sound…to an extent…

Riddle was angry with his counterpart, but he could not imagine losing part of his own soul to his overwhelming rage. That was simply foolhardy nonsense. 

“He won’t believe you. I’m not entirely certain that I believe you.” Riddle’s smile was neither biting, nor malicious. It was exhausted, perhaps a touch exasperated. “Perhaps it is better for you that he is afraid of losing you. It keeps the threat of your artifact more pressing than ever in our mind.” A pause, a longing sigh. “He’ll never fear for losing me. He gives and he takes. Some days, he’s generous. On others, not quite so much.” Riddle laughed softly to himself.

“If I’ve angered him, he takes everything from me.” Riddle paused once again, biting his tongue, realizing that he’d said far too much, his eyes staring through his counterpart. “Don’t anger him. Let him do as he needs. He knows best. He must.”  
— 

 “I-If you’d like, I could maybe try to talk to him. Tell him that you need his attention…” Thanatos found himself staring at Riddle in shock at his sudden calm. “But what do you mean when you say he takes everything from you?” His expression moved to one of confusion and exhaustion. Death apparently had chosen not to interfere with Voldemort’s experiments, so Thanatos was running on a much lower amount of energy than usual.  
—   
There was a look in Riddle’s eyes, a spark, a lingering hope that lit up his pale face. It was as though there was something with Thanatos that was willing to understand, rather than ridicule. Willing to see sympathy were there was only weakness. But it passed with a gentle sigh and a shake of his head. He stepped back smoothly, despite his exhaustion, his movements fluid and concise.

“I’ve said too much.” Riddle laughed, his dazzling smile masking and replacing the show of emotion all too easily to something more alluring, more distracting. “You should get some rest.” He commented turning on heel to walk away, perhaps a touch too quickly.

He’d revealed far too much. Far too much this time. He should not have risen to the bait. He should not have opened his mouth. He should not have threatened his counterpart. The Dark Lord would not be pleased with him. Not at all.  
— 

“Wait!” Thanatos reached out almost desperately. “What happened when you were gone? Tom’s barely left his room since he returned and refuses to see anyone or say anything.”

—   
Riddle couldn’t manage to meet his eyes. To admit to the fact that Tom and his stores of power were being siphoned off and stored away was tantamount to telling his counterpart that he was continually in a weakened state. It certainly wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the whole truth.

The whole truth included Riddle speaking out, rather ‘vividly’, against it and paying the price for it. Tom had disappeared into his own work since, and Riddle was left with the crippling fear that it could happen again at any time.

“None of that is your concern. None of it has to do with you.” Riddle couldn’t help his accusatory tone, particularly because of his creeping suspicion was that the power would be used to defend the lot of them against death itself. “You’re creeping into dangerous territory.”  
— 

“We are counterparts. Of course it’s my concern. Despite my…special nature, I can’t betray my brethren. Death won’t take us, even if I have to be the sacrifice.” He moved closer to Riddle, hoping that he came off as intimidating. When Riddle had unexpectedly backed down, it gave him a spark of courage. “I can’t allow our lord to continue treating us like playthings. Tell me what has been going on. No one is talking, and I hate not knowing!”

—   
It was jarring to be intimidated by a face so familiar yet so very different. Only a scant few years separated them and yet, Riddle felt as though he were staring at an entirely different individual. In essence, he was though. Their experiences from here on forward separated them dramatically. He had no idea what ‘Death’ was planning, just as Thanatos had no inclination as to how Riddle and Tom were being used.

Pawns in a game. Very expensive playthings. He’s not incorrect. He’s closer to the truth than he’s ever been. Dare Riddle tell him…?

Riddle stood his ground, glaring back venomously but his energy was wearing thin and he didn’t have the power to shove Thanatos away. “You’re a sacrifice? What do you mean? It seems I’m not the only one keeping secrets…”  
— 

He wasn’t sure if he could trust Riddle with his secret, but if it would get him the information he wanted…

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. I assume that’s a fair trade.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how best to explain his situation. “The energy I draw from, it allows me to work independently from our lord. Unfortunately, seeing as it comes from Death himself, it doesn’t come without strings attached. It seems that, like our lord, Death is not above cutting those under him from their power source. I found this out the hard way, during a mission for our lord.

However, Death offered me immortality in exchange for becoming an avatar of his. But don’t worry. I made sure it’s only binding to me. Death cannot take any of us. Our lord, naturally, was fascinated at my predicament after he got over his initial shock.”  
—   
Riddle fought to keep the shock from his face. An ‘avatar’ of death? He had never even known that death could be a sentient being and now he was learning that it had other beings which it controlled? Riddle gulped hard, concentrating on not allowing his panic to overwhelm him.

Death was around them. Death was within them. To a certain extent, death had always been watching them and waiting. “Or it means that Death has taken all of us.” Riddle couldn’t keep the gravity from his tone as he whispered to his counterpart.

“Thanatos, is there a way to overthrow him? Your…secondary master?” Admitting that Death incarnate was leading part of his own being felt wrong on so many levels, and yet this could become a prime opportunity. More power could be had from this lesion.

He carefully kept away from his own secrets, playing his cards close and hoping that Thanatos’ diverted attention would leave it entirely forgotten.  
— 

“That’s likely one of the reasons why our lord choses to perform experiments on me.” Thanatos didn’t go into any more detail, nor elaborate on what he suspected death to truly be: a force of nature made up of an army of avatars.

He turned and looked Riddle in the eye. “I’ve upheld my end of the bargain. Now it is your turn. What did our lord do to you?”  
—   
Damn it.

Thanatos didn’t seem at all deterred from asking over and over for the truth of the matter in Riddle’s prolonged punishment.

He destroyed me. He rendered me to my lowest form. He taught me the meaning of the word ‘trinket’.

Riddle couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud. It was too shameful, too upsetting, too weak. He sighed, looking to his counterpart pleadingly, those beautiful eyes focusing all too keenly on Thanatos as he softly, fondly touched his cheek. “It’s nothing. Really, just the normal punishment. Pain. You know the drill, so to speak.” He lied, his voice tight with anxiety and exhaustion.  
— 

Thanatos sighed, reaching out to touch Riddle’s arm. “It wasn’t just the usual punishment. You were gone for a week and a half.” Not to mention that Cidarim was much too happy during Riddle’s absence. Thanatos yawned. There was something about Riddle that seemed to lull him. “But we’ve fought enough for tonight. I’ll let you keep your secret for now, but I will discover what happened. You should know better than anyone how persistent we can be.”

Part 6  
Riddle had finally been contentedly asleep when the knock came to his door. He was quick to ignore it the first time. Surely, any follower of any variety would know better than to approach him without a particularly good reason. The last few days had been upsetting to say the least. Riddle was feeling stretched too thin, drawn across too long of a period without being replenished and he needed every second of rest that he could manage aside from his duties in managing the fortress and its various wealthy supporters.

Being the figurehead was…upsetting. Particularly when your actual leader was busy ‘experimenting’ on someone else. And yet, despite Thanatos’ initial hesitation and anger at being confronted, Riddle had learned an overwhelming amount about his younger counterpart, to the point where sleep had eluded him fastidiously in lieu of his mind racing to new, fearful conclusions about death.  If anything, the knock at his door had interrupted the first bit of actual rest he had managed to get.

With a touch of distasteful anger, he slipped out of bed and staggered in the dark over to the door, easing it open and peering out at the newcomer, shocked to find…Thanatos?

“Two visits in one day?” Riddle laughed softly to himself. “Aren’t I the lucky one? Come in, come in.” He said, gesturing for his counterpart to enter.  
—

Thanatos barely slept at all. He found himself not only curious about Riddle, but, now that he had shared his secret, he was worried that Riddle would now fear him, considering what he had become. After a while, his curiosity overrode his desire to sleep, and he once again found himself outside of Riddle’s door. He wanted answers, and he didn’t plan on leaving until he had them.

When Riddle opened the door, the words came tumbling out without any reservation. “What really happened with Voldemort?”

—

“Good lord, Thanatos.” Riddle groaned. The man certainly didn’t waste time. Perhaps Riddle had been hoping that he could evade this subject even a bit longer but it seems that it had come to hunt him down either way. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, a practiced and unconsciously nervous habit before he turned on heel to walk back to his bed. 

“If that’s all you came here to talk about, then you’re free to leave.” Riddle grumbled, collapsing back on to his comforter, entirely unwilling to be awake for anything less than his lordship himself. “And call him by his proper name, Thanatos. It’s ‘The Dark Lord’, even among ourselves. Don’t be rude.” He chided as he crawled under the blankets, sounding annoyed and exhausted.  
— 

Thanatos frowned. Seeing as that was the only reason he was there, he had no excuse to stay. But he didn’t want to leave just yet. “I just don’t get it. When you were in his favor he treated me like the plague and we were brothers. Now he treats me as a thing of curiosity and you treat me as a thing of distain. I’m tired of being treated like a freak by the both of you.”

Being around Riddle and the others was like being back in the Slytherin common room with how everyone (save for Ava) tiptoed around each other. He shook his head, attempting to clear away the memory. Maybe he just needed to be near another body right now. He quietly made his way to the edge of Riddle’s bed and sat on the floor next to it.

—   
“I wish I was…” Riddles voice floated out of the mass of covers he had burrowed into. “More like him, I mean. Powerful, in control, assured and unquestioned.” He murmured, tired and pensive, taking a moment to revel in the memory, the fear that had passed through him when he realized what he had done was terribly wrong and he would be punished for it. 

Riddle felt Thanatos presence more than even needing to see it. He shifted over to the side and was suddenly struck with a memory, the Slytherin common room. Riddle peered down at Thanatos, wondering if the other had been thinking the same, realizing exactly how young, how lost he looked, all alone in the dark. 

“Oh, come off it, Thanatos!” Riddle laughed to himself, quickly leaning over his bedside and pulling his counterpart up to sit with him on the cushy mattress with a groan. “You’re just fine. Perfect, in fact.” He admitted between the two of them. “You’re not a freak. I should not have lost my temper. I’m so sorry.” He continued softly, as though lowering the tone of his voice would make it easier to say the words. Unfortunately, that was not the case.  
— 

“It’s fine,” he muttered in response, drawing his legs in. He suddenly felt vulnerable, sitting here with Riddle. It was an odd feeling, and he didn’t know what to do. “I know I’m a freak. A talented freak, but still a freak.”

—   
“You’re my favorite talented freak.” Riddle teased, not hesitating to smoothly wrap his arms around the other’s torso and tug him closer, trying to get him to ‘unwind’. He leaned his head casually against Thanatos’ shoulder and took a deep breath, as though acclimating himself to the feel of the other’s power, the slow, sweet addictiveness of it.

“It’s pretty incredible…” He sighed. “These bodies we’ve been given. They’re so durable, but so fragile…”  
— 

Thanatos couldn’t help but relax when Riddle wrapped his arms around him. He drew in closer, breathing in the other’s scent and enjoying the warmth his companion provided. “True. It’s much easier for us to get hurt, but as long as we have our energy sources we are still stronger than most.”   
—   
The blankets were warm and welcoming. The dark room hid the small smile of contentment that spread across Riddle’s face as he felt the other relaxing along with him. He casually stroked along the other’s arm, running his fingertips along until he reached his hand, interlocking the fingers gently.

“We’re nigh indestructible. Our existence is a work of art.” He sighed, his breath ghosting against his counterpart. “He controls all of it. For me, at least, he does.” His voice caught, as though unwilling to go on.  
— 

Thanatos closed his eyes and leaned against his older self’s chest. “We were made to be appreciated and treated with the utmost care,” he agreed, nodding. “Do you dislike it? Being controlled?”

—   
“We are respected.” Riddle continued, as though trying to assure himself more than anything. “We are the most powerful. Extensions of divine purpose, to an extent.” He took a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. “We are worshipped and appreciated but he…”

  
Riddle ran his fingertips over his eyes, cringing slightly and shaking his head. “He took all of it away. I angered him, Thanatos. I angered his Eminence and he destroyed my form for it.” His voice lowered to a small, even whisper. “I deserved it. He did it to teach me.” He ran his hand over the cool surface of the locket as though reassuring himself it was still there. “I was powerless compared to him.”  


Part 7  
“Undress.” Riddle’s voice was assured, smooth and calm, yet there was something within his eyes that seemed to be burning with an unnatural hunger. It wasn’t a request, it wasn’t even an order, it was an invitation. He paused, peering down at her before continuing. "I have bought you new clothes.” With a wave of his wand, a gown appeared before him, complete with lace, ruffles and enough sparkling accents to make a princess blush. He smiled innocently. "What did you think I meant…?”  
——-  
Ava’s lips parted as she stared at the gown, frozen in place. It was as if he was actively trying to see her humiliated. She peeked up through her lashes at his hungry appearance, then back at the dress. It was so…….not her. Even as a child she never wore dresses. She was sure she would look ridiculous wearing the dress he was presenting her with. What made him think it would suit her? After a few minutes, she moved, crossing her arms and looking directly at him. “And if I refuse?”  
–/–  
Oh, his little bird was so adorable when she was being stupid and stubborn. Then again, he would be hard pressed to find a time when his pet was not adorable. The only time he seemed to find himself irate with her is when she had the audacity to disobey him, a decision which she seemed on the edge of currently.

Her distaste for the garment was clear as day, from her moody glances to the low tone of her voice. She might as well be pouting and stomping her feet. “Oh, little bird.” He cooed. “You’re completely free to refuse my opulent and extravagant gifts. Of course, I’m also free to kill you at any moment as well.” He quirked a brow at her challengingly.  
——

Her jaw clenched in frustration at the choices presented before her. It wasn’t that she was scared of death, she had already accepted that she would eventually die as everyone (save for the horcruxes) did. What she was scared of was the damage she was sure they would cause if she was no longer around to stop them. There were few that would openly defy Tom Riddle the way she did.

She snatched the gown from his hands, heat rising to her cheeks as it rustled at the movement. Just because she was going along with what he asked didn’t mean she had to like it. “Fine,” she nearly growled. “I’ll accept your damn gift. Now are you going to leave me to change or do you want a bloody show too?”  
—–  
Riddle watched as she snatched the gown from his hands, the beautiful fabric wrinkling as her grip on the garment tightened. She pulled away from him, casting him a disdainful glare that only seemed to amuse him further.

Her stubbornness was endearing, but Riddle was playing the strategist. This was a long game, and he intended on setting himself in the lead early. Ava needed to know that she was not a follower, she was not even a witch, she was a crafty little pet. His pet, in fact.

“You’ll need my help, you know.” He replied, his voice was smooth, calming with just a touch of playful indulgence. He gestured gracefully to the dress. “All of those buttons. And someone must lace up the corseted back, unless you somehow were planning on doing so yourself. You need me here.”  
—–  
Upon closer inspection, she found that he was right. There was no way she’d be able to put this on herself. A cold shiver passed through her body as the acknowledgement that she would have to depend on him for once. Wordlessly, she turned away from him and began to disrobe. Just because he had to stay didn’t mean she had to see him watching her.

As she undressed, she could feel his crimson eyes on her, watching her in amusement. She fought to keep her movements neutral and steady, without any shaking. She wasn’t entirely sure she succeeded. Once all of her outer clothing was removed, she had to fight hard not to just grab her clothes and run out of instinct. Instead, she took a deep breath and reached for the luxurious dress. Stepping into it, she pulled it up and adjusted it as much as she could on her own.

She closed her eyes briefly before turning around, a blush quite obviously dusting her cheeks. “Okay. I…” She struggled to get the words out. “Will you help me?”  
—–   
A gentleman would have left the room. He would have closed the door behind him, waited until the lady was done and ready for him to see her once more, covered and ‘decent’. A gentleman would have known to look away, go give the lady respect. Despite his regal bearing, Riddle was not a gentleman.

Riddle watched.

He watched as she disrobed with the vague, twisted amusement that one might have while watching a cat groom itself. He saw the tremors in her hands as she fought to keep herself steady. He sensed her tension, her humiliation all set aside as she pulled the garment over herself. Riddle smiled at the question, enjoying every implication it stood for.

“Of course, little dove.” He stepped smoothly forward. He pulled the bodice of the dress snuggly about her midsection, allowing his fingertips to trail casually along her exposed back, leaning in close before he found the garment’s laces and giving them a sharp tug. “You look gorgeous already, I daresay.” Another tug, as he laced the garment tighter. “All the other ladies will be quite envious.”   
—–

Her breath hitched as he pulled the bodice tighter and laced it up. It felt uncomfortable and unnatural on her body. She couldn’t suppress a shiver as his cool fingers grazed her back, and felt somewhat relieved that her back was to him. The whole situation was degrading and she hated every minute of it. She prayed this was a one-time thing, that he’d leave her and her fashion choices alone after this. Despite the dress covering most of her small frame, she still felt extremely exposed and on display.

It took her a minute or so to readjust her breathing once she was confined to the garment. While it wasn’t painfully tight, the corset made it difficult to breathe normally. “Right. The /other ladies/. Like I’m actually going to walk out of the flat in this. No thank you.” The long skirt rustled gently as she turned to face him, the usual scowl on her face. Of course, it did little to hide her blatant shame and humiliation.   
——-  
Riddle studied her as she turned to face him. There was a smile playing at his lips that didn’t quite surface yet his eyes roved over her figure contentedly. Her discomfort, her anxiety, and the glowing blush on her cheeks only seemed to add to his amusement.

  
“You will.” Riddle affirmed, looking knowingly down at her disdainful expression. “You’re going to dress like this every single day. I’ll make sure of it.” He whispered. He ran his fingertips along her dark hair, stroking it neatly into place behind her ear, all the while fixing her with an unblinking stare. “Because I’ll be here to watch you, little bird. I want to ensure you’re well provided for, after all.”   
——-  
Ava took a step back, nearly tripping over herself in the process. Her mind was spinning. Every day? She wasn’t sure she could survive going through this degrading treatment every day. Not to mention the fact that it meant that she would be at his mercy just to get dressed. Of course, she knew in the depths of her mind that he would do it. There seemed to be little that he enjoyed more than watching her suffer.

“I…” She tried to speak, retort, say /something/, but the words were caught in her throat. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him dumbly, eyes wide. He had her cornered, with no way to escape.  
—-  
Ava was tripping over herself in trying to find her footing in more ways than the literal. Her mind was moving fast, trying to find an escape. Riddle could almost see the gears turning, and he had to keep from laughing wickedly in response.

Firstly, that dress was not made for anything but being ‘shown off’, which is exactly what Riddle intended on doing. Ava was his and he intended on letting the world know that his new pet would be taken care of by himself. In time, she would embody status, grace and humility. He would see to it without a doubt. Secondly, there was no escape, and in a few days’ time, she wouldn’t even want to find an escape. She’d be looking to lock the door behind the both of them.

His eyes widened expectantly, a touch of innocent curiosity creeping into his tone as he spoke. “You…?” He asked, his voice low and personal.   
——-  
Ava simply turned her face away in response. There was nothing to say. She had run out of words. Her heart sank at the reluctant acknowledgement that he had won this round. Like her namesake implied, she was nothing more than a bird in a pretty cage for Riddle to do with as he pleased.   
“It’s nothing. Never mind.” The words were hollow and full of defeat.  
—–/  
Riddle sensed it within her, like the subtle heat of a glowing fire, the embers clinging to life as the night’s darkness slowly closed in. Riddle watched as she bit back words and disgust, as she trained her face into something calm, emotionless and perfectly controlled. Her voice sounded hollow with defeat; music to his ears. His plan was working like a charm, and she would not even know how he had warped her into submission until it was far too late.

His adorable little pet…

“That’s what I thought.” Riddle hissed, looming over her. His eyes fixed her with an unreadable look, cold and unfeeling, though his smile was welcoming and beautiful. “You look splendid, Ava. You’ve really made me so happy. I just hope I can return the favor…”  
——-  
Lowering her head, Ava shifted uncomfortably as he stood over her, threateningly. Riddle was overshadowing her in every way possible, bringing back the fear and emotions she hadn’t felt in almost a decade. She had sworn to herself that she would never let herself go through those feelings again, and yet here she was, helpless against the situation.

She was so far under his control, she didn’t even realize that he had used her given name instead of the teasing nickname he and the others always used.

Part 8  
Tom had been gone over a month, but it felt like a lifetime. He had traveled all over Europe, scouring the extensive private libraries of prominent Witches and Wizards. It had all come to nothing.

The spell used had either been very rare or had been created by Lord Voldemort. He needed to read the journal again, review more of the pages. See the spells instructions in front of him. That was how he found himself outside the magically expanded flat he and the others occupied with Ava.

He eases the front door open, it was an ungodly hour, and no one should be about. He had stored the small leather bound volume on his own personal book case, the one next to his bed. He wondered if it were still there.

Creeping past the other rooms, he tries not to even breathe. He wanted to come and go, no one would be the wiser when they woke in the morning.

He paused at Riddle’s door. It was directly across from his own, and the door was ajar. The scene inside made him pinch his lips. Riddle had obviously become even more depraved since they had met last.

He turned away, and opened his door silently, closing it behind him. The journal was just where he left it. Everything was in its place, actually…it made him miss the comforts of having a permanent residents. He would come back for good one day, but it wouldn’t be tonight. He stowed the book in a pack, along with a few others, and gave the room a once over for anything else he could use.

Satisfied, he readied himself to leave. When Tom opened the door he was so surprised his bag fell to the floor, the books inside clattered out loudly.

Riddle’s eyes were more red than he had ever seen them before.

—

Tom had returned.

The idea of switching out his books in place of enchanted duplicates which would warn Riddle of his counterpart’s return had been both a stroke of brilliance and a last ditch effort. He had figured that his younger self would not be foolish enough to venture back to reclaim anything from their stronghold, but if, by any chance he did…Riddle couldn’t even bring himself to hope.

When the moment did finally come though, Riddle found himself preoccupied. He was attending to his pet in a way only he would deem necessary when he felt the shift in his magical field. Tom had returned and there was not a moment to be lost.

Riddle retreated, leaving his toy locked safely away for a time (she would wait for his return, patiently, for as long as he needed), before he strode down to Tom’s room to meet his target.

Tom stumbled back, startled, from the door he had just shoved open. Riddle smiled down at him, caught between relief and bitterness as he stepped through the threshold and closed it shut behind him. The wards that enclosed them and trapped them in Tom’s room were wordless, triggered by the duplicate books that Tom carried.

“Well, well, well…” Riddle purred, peering at his counterpart, taking in his ragged appearance and fighting back the urge to comb his hair and straighten his jacket. “Look who came all the way home. Tom, darling, it’s been far too long. I do hope you’re not looking for these…” he gestured to the books in Tom’s hand, causing them to disappear in an instant. “You’ll have no use for them now that we’re back together.”  
—  
Tom backed up, he had tried to disapperate but there were wards placed on the room. He hit the edge of the bed and fell clumsily. The glare Riddle received was full of embarrassment and anger at having been caught.

Desperation had caused him to be clumsy. It had been too easy, in hind sight. Obviously a trap. His time away has made him sloppy. He cheeks burned with indignation.

“Oh yes, back together, a happy family. You forget we never had to be apart Riddle. You could have come with me.” It wasn’t true, Riddle was dependent on the Dark Lord in a way that Tom was not, and he knew it. It was a low blow, but maybe if he felt some guilt Tom would be able to escape.

“Instead you’re here, and you can’t even control your urges. I thought you took better care of your pets than that.” He picked himself off the ground and jerked his chin in the direction of Riddles room. “That would have never happened if you had come with me, I would have been able to help you.”  
—  
Seeing him stumble and glare had been almost endearing. There was something so strikingly human, so relatable about his counterpart and Riddle wouldn’t have changed him for the world. He couldn’t help but remember the many nights that they had spent reading and talking to one another, exchanging theories and opinions and jokes until the early hours of the morning, falling asleep while leaning on one another for support. They had a kinship, a brotherly bond which Riddle could not admit that he shared with any other he had met since. If Tom’s absence had wounded the Dark Lord’s pride, it had devastated Riddle in a way he could not properly voice.

He should have felt nothing. He was a horcrux, a piece of a broken soul. Yet Tom’s loss had brought about a keen emptiness within him, one which needed constant fulfillment.

Riddle gulped hard, the muscles on his neck tightening as his brow furrowed in a momentary lapse of certainty. Tom had immediately set in on the exact memory that Riddle had been fearing he would, and hoping to avoid. The moment of Tom’s departure lingered in the forefront of Riddle’s mind like a foul smell. Riddle assumed that his decision to let Tom go, to hide the truth from his beloved master would have haunted his dreams. In truth, Riddle tended not to dream at all. These days, he hardly slept.

“Control my urges?” Riddle breathed, stepping forward. His beautiful smile had transformed into something challenging and sinister as his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of Tom’s room. “Can’t you see that I’m taking very good care of our little bird? Her mind bends closer to my will with every passing moment.” He justified smoothly, nearing his young counterpart. “Help me, Tom? It looks like you can hardly help yourself, how could you possibly hope to save someone else?”  
—  
Riddle was like a jungle cat preparing to pounce on Tom, he had never been afraid of him before that moment. As Riddle stalked closer the more unnerved Tom became.

Then the verbal blows had come, Tom was not prepared for them to be so punishing. Riddle had never been so unforgiving. It shook him more than he would have thought.

Shame consumed him, and he wanted to look away, but Riddles eyes were impossible to disengage. Those predator eyes…

“You’re right.” The voice coming from him didn’t sound like his own, but he felt the truth of it. He wasn’t able to help himself, how could he have ever been so stupid as to think he could help Riddle too.

“I should have stayed…” he diverted his eyes finally, and his stomach turned as he saw Riddles perfectly manicured hand stark against the arm of his tattered coat. Rage boiled inside of him, and he shirked the hand away.

“How dare you use your power on me, I’m not Ava and I’m not your toy! You disgust me. I’m sorry I ever had hope for you.” He spat. “You and Voldemort deserve each other Riddle.”  
—  
Riddle hadn’t realized that he had taken a step forward. He had only been able to take in Tom’s sudden pensive silence, as though the facts laid before him had been too much. Riddle had thrown the correct barb, it seemed, but the feeling of satisfaction that usually followed a successful attack didn’t surface. Bitterness bubbled within him like bile, tasting just as acidic.

Power surged through him. Riddle should have stopped to consider why that may have been happening, but the look of betrayal on Tom’s face told him all he needed to know. When his hand was knocked away, Riddle realized what he had instinctively done. He had reached out and touched Tom, seeking a source of energy without even knowing it. The warmth of Tom’s contact, the familiar feeling of being near to his counterpart had been welcoming, comforting and snatched away far too soon.

Riddle withdrew his hand, his eyes narrowed in frustration and anger, not only with at the audacity of his younger self, but somewhere within him, he felt his own grip on reality slipping away. Riddle and His Lordship did deserve one another, after all. Riddle was his mistress, his personal attendant, his second in command…or perhaps he had been at one point. The bitterness arose within him once again as Riddle lunged forward, gripping the front of Tom’s robes and yanking him near, his face twisted into a snarl.

“We do!” Riddle snapped, breathing hard. “We belong together for always! All of us! A-and the more power he bestows, the more complete we become. He only punishes us to make us stronger, to teach us further.” His grip tightened on Tom’s robes. “And once I return you to him, he’ll approve of me once again. He’ll stop choosing Thanatos instead of-”

Riddle stopped suddenly, the mad, crimson glint in his eyes seemed to fade in the soft, cool moonlight of the room. Riddle withdrew his hands, peering down at them as though seeing them for the first time, watching as his perfectly manicured fingertips quivered as he took a deep breath.

Had it really come to this? Begging for his lordship’s attention? Clawing his way to the top? Turning in the only one he trusted?  Lying like a bitch in heat for the mere chance of being noticed? Riddle shuddered. He felt just as repulsive as he knew himself to be

“Leave.” Riddle’s voice was flat, hollow. His eyes stared, unfocused, at a point on the ground as he backed away. “Go now. Take your books. Don’t come back.”

Part 9  
“Are you happy now?”  
——  
Tom glares at Riddle and says nothing before whipping his head in the other direction.

Happy? The audacity!  
—–  
Riddle smiled sadly at Tom as his counterpart turned away. “I am.” He admitted softly, more to himself than anyone else. “Happy, I mean.”  
—-  
Tom rounded on Riddle in a fury. “Of course you are Riddle! Why wouldn’t you be! You get to go lay on your back with him at night and you have deluded yourself into thinking nothing has changed between us brother!”

The night Tom returned, a desperate act to retrieve journals from his old room, had gone from bad to worse. The altercation with Riddle had left Tom emotionally raw, but he had been prepared to run into him.

Eventually Riddle, in a moment of weakness or sympathy, had stepped aside to let Tom retreat. He has scrambled to pick up the books and hurried past his older self, whispering his heartfelt gratitude.

The words turned rotten on his mouth though, because as soon as he stepped into the hall a luminescent figure was waiting for him at the end of it.

Lord Voldemort.

“Tom,” he older man swept his arms open, waiting. “You’ve come back to me.”

He was too weak to run.

“You were never going to let me leave,” the words, no more than a whisper, were acidic. “You have damned me.”

Tom slunk to the open arms, a beaten dog returning to his owner.

Defeated.  
—–  
Tom looked absolutely stunning. From his perfectly tailored new robes, embroidered in silver and green to the neatness of his hair, to his focused, enchanting dark eyes. He looked the absolute picture of health and youthful loveliness. Yet…Riddle couldn’t help but sense something about him like an aura, a scent.

Hopelessness.

The fateful night that their Lordship and Savior had discovered Tom returning for his books, he had welcomed both Riddle and himself into the fortress, along with their little bird companion. Riddle had been shocked to learn that the ‘capture’ had been attributed to his own cunning, that His Majesty had thought he had planned to keep Tom there for as long as possible to give Voldemort a chance to confront him.

That was, of course, entirely incorrect. In that heartbeat of indecision, Riddle had been entirely willing to let his counterpart run. It had been wrong to think of such a thing, but it was too late to take back now.

Tom’s coldness, his anger hurt beyond anything Riddle thought Horcruxes capable of feeling. He wanted to shout at him, to correct him, to convince him, but he was no longer even the Dark Lord’s favorite companion anymore. That beloved position belonged to another favorite trinket, and the fact felt too bitter to admit aloud. Thus, Riddle let Tom think what he would about Riddle’s nightly activities, even if he was not the one in the Lord’s favor anymore.

He tried to ignore the hunger. It didn’t always work.

“Brother-dear.” Riddle attempted his usual, casual and smooth tone, reaching out to his younger self, taking his hand and giving it a fond squeeze. “Nothing has changed. We can be just like we used to again! Just you and I, up until all hours of the morning, discussing politics, battle tactics and ice cream.” He laughed.   
—–  
Tom reached out his hand to Riddle languidly. “Here brother, you have all manner of abilities when it comes to physical contact. Make me stay here and chat with you as long as you want. I don’t have the will to fight it off, if you tried.”

The Dark Lord had dressed Tom up too look the part of a young noble wizard. The finery and lavish almost made him gag with repulsion, they might as well have been chains.

In this instance he was glad for tailored robes, they made him beautiful, he could admit, and people like Riddle were attracted to such beauty.

Riddle himself was dressed, as always, in the most luxurious of materials, all cut to him perfectly. He always wore more color than the rest of them, but it only complimented his lean figure and took away nothing from his dark features.

They must have made quite the picture, one beautiful boy reaching out for the other. Anyone, unable to see the blank expression on Toms face would have thought it a tender moment.

“Make me love you again.”  
——  
“I fear you may never do that.”

Riddle didn’t even realize he was reaching out longingly, greedily to his counterpart before their hands were interlocked. He stepped forward, pulling the proffered hand to his lips, kissing the hand softly in the sincerest show of fondness he could muster and savoring the sensation of closeness that it brought between them. Or perhaps it had been false closeness, a foolish illusion. Yet Riddle couldn’t bring himself to pull away from it.

“Tom, you can’t imagine how things have been since you left. I’ve been so-” Lonely? Worried? Afraid? Riddle shook his head, gripping Tom’s hand a touch tighter in his refusal to admit to his own growing weakness. He wished that the other man’s presence would erase away all of his uncertainty, but as it were, his coldness only seemed to add to it. Ever since he had returned, Riddle had felt more inadequate, more upset than ever. His entire world seemed to hinge on whether or not he could keep his unconventional family together, and they were tearing one another apart at the seams.

“Does our lordship know why you were gone?” Riddle whispered, stepping closer to speak in urgent undertones. “Does he suspect…?”

 


	3. Playtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riddle gains some new pets. One willing, one not so much.

Part 1  
Thanatos threw his ring at Riddle out of frustration. “Fine. Since you seem to want my power so badly, you can have it.”   
——-  
The ring pelted Riddle in the back of the head, causing him to yelp in surprise more so than pain. He hissed in anger, rounding on his counterpart. His anger faded immediately upon seeing the ring laying innocently upon the ground. Strange, that it was born of such lack of innocence. He carefully picked up the sparkling piece of jewelry, both unassuming and attractive all at once. He ran his fingertips along the sharp edges before looking up at Thanatos and smiling beautifully.

“We’re going to have a bit of fun, you and I.” He laughed, looking hungrily at his ‘brother’.  
/——–

That was a mistake. Thanatos hadn’t thought his actions through very well and the look Riddle was giving him caused a sinking feeling in his gut. He was just trying to get his brother’s attention, and had completely forgotten that his soul was tied to the ring. Now that Riddle had it, an odd feeling began to develop inside of him. Something strange and unnamable. He reached out in an attempt to reclaim his host.

——-  
Riddle was quick on his feet, he darted out of grasp and held the ring up to the light admiringly. He ran his thumb lovingly along the gemstone, the smooth metal ring before slipping it on to his index finger and shooting his brother a wicked, indulgent smile.

“Oh, come now Thanatos. Don’t you wan’t to have a bit of fun with me? Isn’t this what you always wanted?” He laughed coldly, sending his own power pumping through the ring, forcing his counterpart under his will. “You finally have my attention, brother. Now, let’s see you keep it.”   
——-

Thanatos could feel Riddle’s power at the edge of his mind and desperately pushed back with his own ebbing power. As he continued to fight Riddle off, he tried once more to grab the ring from Riddle’s finger.

Yet, for as hard as he fought against the mental assault, he found it harder to focus as Riddle overwhelmed him. He panicked as his body stopped responding to his commands and fell to his knees. He found himself unable to move or do anything beyond passively sitting there, staring blankly ahead as Riddle took control over his mind and body. He fruitlessly continued to struggle until his mind was finally quieted, bound under Riddle’s will.

He sat there, waiting for his master’s first command.   
—–  
“Thanatos…” Riddle’s voice was soft as velvet as he watched his brother struggle before him. He bit back cruel laughter, kept his emotions carefully in check as he watched Thanatos crumple to the floor. The other man stared blankly up at him, but he was bound to the ring, and the ring was now bound to Riddle.

Riddle smiled. There was a hungry glint in his eyes.

“Calm down, brother. You’re in good hands.” He lowered himself, kneeling beside Thanatos, reaching out tentatively as though to test whether or not his counterpart was faking his submissive nature. “I promise I’ll be far more gentle than our lordship has been to you.” 

Part 2  
Ava was patient. She had waited this long, she could wait a bit more. Looking at the clock, she mentally counted down the seconds until it hit midnight. The moment it did, she stood up from her perch and stretched, as a wicked smirk crept across her lips and a mischievous glint returned to her emerald eyes. After a full month of being stuck in this bloody fortress, she was ready to make her move and get out of there. It had almost been fun, playing the part of a broken little doll. It was even more entertaining that they hadn’t suspected a thing. As far as she knew, they would assume that she wouldn’t dare cross her “masters” and try to escape. They thought she was completely under their control, pleasantly content in her submission. If only they knew how wrong they were.

Hiking up her skirt, she quietly made her way to the door. She didn’t really worry too much about running into someone. She had been listening all day, and figured out that they were all relatively busy with whatever the hell they were doing. In all honesty, she didn’t care what it was, as long as it kept them occupied as she made her escape.

The wards on the door leading outside, the ones that were supposed to keep her and the others from leaving, weren’t anything new. In fact, they weren’t all that strong. It was as if they were designed to keep people out, rather than in. She assumed a lot of that came from their greedy dependence on each other. That they would have no reason to leave. Whatever. That just meant less work for her. With a bit of prodding at the right places, the wards disappeared just long enough to let her through.

Stepping out into the brisk December air, she made her way back to her flat for a change of clothes. She didn’t have a lot of time before she’d have to head over to the Blanchard’s for Christmas, but she’d do what she could. Either way, she wasn’t going to let those bastards keep her from enjoying her holidays. When she was far enough away, she turned around and mock saluted the fortress. “Catch me if you can,” she whispered. As she walked away, the mark on her arm pulsed ever so slightly.

Part 3  
Ava looked lazily at the young man who had shown up not even two days after she had made her escape. “Well. That didn’t take long,” she mused. “I see Riddle sent you to do the dirty work. Leave it to him to send one of his toys to come get me, rather than come himself. I suppose I should applaud him for being /so/ like Voldemort himself, with them not wanting to stain their hands so they send their little executioner.”

She began to circle him, tauntingly. “I have no intentions of returning, you know. But before I kick you out, perhaps I should repay the favor you so graciously gave me.” Reaching up, she ran her finger across his cheek, in the same place he had cut her almost two weeks ago when he forcefully slapped her. “I’m sure you know the one I’m talking about.”

With a chilling laugh, she spun away. “Or maybe not. Like you said, my defiance isn’t productive, so I’d just be wasting energy. Then again, despite the lack of usefulness, it does keep the lot of you coming back.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Well, that’s all. You can run home to your masters now. I’m going to make myself some tea.”

\-----------------

Thanatos didn’t say anything as he watched Ava. He let her ramble on, although her words bored him. He wanted to complete his tasks as efficiently as possible and quickly return to the safety of his master. Her words barely bothered him, although he winced slightly when Ava touched his face, remembering his guilt.

Riddle had found out that Thanatos had harmed his precious doll prior to his surrender. While he had been graciously forgiven, he still remembered the look on Riddle’s face when he found out. He was almost scared to disappoint his master now. He had to bring Riddle’s bird back to her cage.

He finally spoke when Ava turned around to make tea. “Our master gave you a gift, Ava. He bestowed upon you a great honor, and you ran away from it. You should know better than anyone that our master never gives up his posessions. You should be grateful, as it is safety for us.” As he spoke, he withdrew his wand and cast his spell at her with lightning quick reflexes. “Immobilus!”

~~~~~  
With her back still turned to him, Ava gave an exasperated sigh before gracefully stepping out of the way of the spell, watching it shoot past her instead. “Okay then. I /won’t/ make tea.” She turned to face him once again.

“You seem to be under the impression that we are similar, dear Thanatos. You see, unlike you, I don’t have any desire whatsoever to be controlled. It’s not a gift and it’s by no means an honor. Why would I be grateful for something I want no part of?”

The energy in the room seemed to crackle between them, most of it being given off by the stubborn young woman. She was growing tired of this game of cat and mouse. Not to mention that her arm had been burning painfully for the past 48 hours or so. She knew exactly why it was flaring, but she had no plans of going, no, /crawling/ back to those who claimed to be her masters.  
~~~~~~

“Riddle wants you back at his side, so back at his side you will be. Whether you like it or not, you are returning with me.” Irritation colored his voice as he stalked towards Ava. He laughed, his grin almost insane. “We have plans for you, little bird. It’s not being controlled, exactly. You’ll be a part of something bigger, something grander than you can even imagine. All of us are connected, and it makes us stronger. There will be no more fighting, no more useless defiance.”

He maneuvered around, trying to corner Ava against the kitchen counter as his wordlessly cast his paralyzing spell as quickly as he could.  
~~~~~  
Dammit. Wordless spells were always much harder to avoid. She didn’t respond to his words at first, instead focusing her energy on watching his actions in an attempt to continue dodging his curses. It wasn’t easy, but she’d done it before with Aurora’s insane cousin. One of the perks of growing up with American wizards.

“I’m sure that’s fine…being horcruxes and all….but…I’m not…a horcrux.” Her sentences were fragmented as she multitasked. “I…don’t want…to be…a part of your plans.”

What she failed to notice was that, as she dodged, she was being forced backwards. It wasn’t until her back hit the edge of the counter that she realized she just might have bitten off more than she could handle. Shit.  
~~~~~

“You revived us. It doesn’t matter what you want, you’re a part of this.” Thanatos smirked as he loomed over her, trapping her between himself and the counter, wand threateningly pointed at her. “Therefore, you are valuable to us. Immobilus.”  
~~~~~  
There was nowhere to go. Even though he was so much taller than her, there wasn’t enough time to slip under the arm with which he raised his wand before the spell hit her full on.

Frozen in place, Ava couldn’t do anything but helplessly glare at him, completely at his mercy.

She cursed mentally. Why did she go after that damn diary all those months ago. It had brought her nothing but trouble. And now she was in too deep to escape.  
~~~~~

Thanatos smiled to himself. Victory was always sweet, and he didn’t even have to resort to harming the little bird. His master would be pleased. Casting a shrinking spell on her, he picked her up and left, ready to return Riddle’s pet to her proper place.

Part 4  
There was no doubt that Ava was fuming. She sat, staring out the window of her cage, angrily drumming her fingers against the windowsill. She just couldn’t understand their motives at this point. What the hell was so important or special about her that they couldn’t wait even a week before chasing her down? Half the time they were so busy with each other they left her alone anyway.

She sighed before standing up and moving to the other side of the room. Maybe there was a book she hadn’t read yet. She doubted it, but it would give her something to do. It wasn’t like she could go anywhere. The damn blood bastards had put special wards on her room, effectively trapping her in her chambers. There was nothing she could do but wait until someone miraculously had time in their schedule to visit her so she could demand answers.

At least she didn’t have to wear those bloody dresses or play pretend this time. She still couldn’t get Riddle’s necklace off, however. Damn trinket probably charmed it or something.

Part 5  
Ava looked around nervously, her eyes brimming with a mix of anticipation and fear. Her whole body was tensed as she curled into herself, shrinking back further into the chair in which she sat. The silence was overwhelming as her eyes darted from horcrux to horcrux, wondering who would make the first move.

There was no doubt in her mind that they were angry at her, maybe even furious. Riddle especially. After all, his little pet bird had slipped away after putting on a very convincing act of submission. From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost comedic how this tiny, Muggle girl had out-manipulated the master of manipulation himself. But inside the fortress, no one was laughing.

Wetting her lips, Ava eventually broke the silence. “I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re after. I don’t regret my actions.” Her voice was quiet but controlled.

Part 6  
Light poured into the opulent room. The heavy drapes were drawn back to reveal a library, a study of sorts. The books were gilded with gold, inlaid with leather. The heavy parchment yellowed and old. The chairs were cushioned. The wine within the decanters was aged and full-bodied. The crystal was polished. The pictures within the frames were regal and well dusted. The room was absolutely beautiful.

Ava’s cage was gilded to perfection.

She sat, trapped and ensnared by the power of the Dark Lord as the sun reached it’s zenith outside her window, wondering exactly what was to become of her now that she had been unceremoniously dragged back to the fortress. She had escaped for a short time, managed to free herself from the haze of torment and hypnosis that Riddle had locked her within. Now she sat, a perfectly poised doll within a perfectly decorated room.

Riddle entered, the ease of his gait made the action seem almost casual as he shut the door behind him and leaned against it with a heavy sigh. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had, Ava. I’m so happy to be done with it.” The look he gave her could only be described as ‘relieved’. “What, with the Imperial Ambassador of China seeking an audience at the same time as the Russian Trade officials, I’ve been swamped. You’ll have to forgive my lateness.” He gestured flippantly with his hand about the room. “It’s good to see that you’ve been comfortable though. How have you been, little bird?”

Ava stared at him, her lips tight, eyes wide. She would not admit to being afraid. She would not.

Riddle’s lips twitched into a pitying smile as he shook his head knowingly. “You know, I feel so…oh, what’s the word…perhaps, complete. When you’re near, I feel more complete. I think it may have something to do with the way you recreated myself and my brothers. I feel connected to you.” He peered at her, framed in the midday light, clothed in the fine ruffles and beautiful garments he had forced her into. She stared back, her expression had not shifted.

“But you left, Ava. You left us behind.” He got up and moved towards her. He knelt before her gently and laid his delicate hands on her shoulder. Ava tensed at the action, detesting the contact and longing for it all at once, unable to look away from those beautiful eyes. “I was so grateful to you for bringing us back. You did us a great service, even if by accident. Perhaps that makes you think you are impervious to my anger.”

The fingers began to tighten about her throat. Ava found herself frozen, unable to move as breathing became a horrifying impossibility. She tensed and squirmed, her fingers clawing at the seat, still unable to look away from Riddle’s beautiful face as he sadly continued speaking.

“You’re not, little bird. You’re just as disposable as any of my servants. I’ve found you to be such a comfort in these past few months, but if you disappoint me in this way…” The fingers clenched tighter, air was now cut off completely. “I will have to do away with you. Do you want me to do that, little bird? Do you want me to hurt you?” His voice was soft, gentle, almost timid as Ava’s eyes began to roll into the back of her head as she fought for life.

Riddle loosened his grip. Ava gulped down air and sputtered for breath. Riddle knelt before her, entirely unperturbed, and waited for her to collect herself. She trembled as he leaned forward slowly, carefully.

“You’ve toyed with dark magic, Ava.” He whispered, intimate and personal. “You’ve tied our souls together. Don’t think you can so easily escape that.” Their lips met for a heartbeat of a moment. The warmth and intimacy outlined by the threat beneath Riddle’s words and the fear in Ava’s eyes.

Riddle pulled back and gave her a playful smile before straightening and brushing off his smartly styled robes. “Well, there’s still so much to do, my dear little Starling. Do be good for me, will you? Don’t disappoint me again.” His eyes lingered on her for a moment too long before he turned casually towards the door. “So much to organize, so much to control, so little time.” He said in sing-song before closing the door soundly behind him.

The lock turned in place with a heavy click.

\------------

Virgin lips, taken as easily as breathing. Even after Riddle left, Ava could feel the sensation of his lips pressed against hers. While she was disgusted by the action, she was even more disgusted with herself for the slightest feeling of pleasure she had felt when he kissed her. As much as she abhorred it, Riddle knew what buttons to push. He knew, not only how to get under her skin, but how to make her feel cared for. It was love in the most twisted sense of the word, and Ava hated how she continued to fall prey to it. A broken soul clinging to any affection offered to her.

Part 7  
“Oh, splendid!” Riddle smiled brightly, clapping his hands together as he looked down at her fondly. “You look fantastic. I knew you would, my little starling. You know how much I love it when you dress for me.”

Everything from the immaculately laced corset, to the sparkling emeralds and the frills of lace seemed to make Ava’s skin stand out as though it were porcelain. Riddle seemed enthralled. He owned her, she was his perfect little toy and he would do with her what he pleased. It certainly pleased him to see her this way, compliant and perfect.  
~~~~~  
Except she wasn’t. She hated the way he had her dress, especially when one considered everything it stood for. The only reason she was doing it this time was because she was almost certain he really would kill her if she didn’t obey. She had already angered him enough with her brief stint of freedom. So, instead, she bit back words of venom and quietly fumed, glaring murderously with eyes of poison. No matter what, she couldn’t allow him to get to her. She refused to be broken.

Part 8

"You'll never be free of me, of any version of me, Ava, not unless we can get out of here. Together." Tom held her hand tightly in his own, his eyes pleading. "Please..." he whispered.

\------

Seeing him like this almost broke her heart. While she wasn’t his biggest fan, it pained her to see him so defeated. “I want to help you, Tom, I really do.” Ava rolled up her lacy sleeve, revealing her mark. “But as long as I have this damn thing, any version of you can track me down. It took Riddle and Thanatos less than 48 hours to find me after I left.”

She rolled her sleeve back down. “But I care about you. I really do. If you want to escape, I will do everything in my power to help you.”

\-------

Tom grabbed her wrist and forced the sleeve up to the elbow again. The mark stood out angrily against her skin, he’d given that mark to many a people but he didn’t know, even with his newly gifted wand, if he could undo it. He had never planned to unbrand his followers.

He ghosted a kiss over her marred arm, the magic lingered there and made his lips tingle.

“I will free you from this,” he rolled her sleeve down. “Then we will get out of this madhouse.”

\------

Ava winced slightly at his lips on her skin. It reminded her a little too much of Riddle's recent actions.

"Not that I don't trust your abilities, but do you think you'll be able to? Without any of the others knowing?" She lowered her voice. "Even if you free me, we'll have to be careful. Our dear Riddle has been keeping a close eye on me ever since I escaped a few weeks ago. And before you say anything, I was planning on coming back for you, I promise. I saw what happened at the flat. You didn't deserve that." She looked at him with genuine sympathy. Then an expression of curiosity passed over her face.

"Why do you want me to join you anyway? You'd only be making things more complicated, as both Riddle and Thanatos, who is Riddle's latest toy, are personally seeing to it that I stay trapped here. I'd only bring you trouble. Besides, last time I checked you found me to be an asshole who never has a pleasant or productive thing to say."

 


	4. Turning Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A basket case, a flight risk, and a rebel. Things are going to get messy. (Believe it or not, this chapter is one giant rp)

Ava jolted awake like she did almost every night these days. There was just something about the fortress that kept her from sleeping peacefully. Now, normally she would wake up to an empty room, but tonight was different. She sighed, rubbing her eyes and blinking away sleep. “Tom? Is that you? What are you doing here?” She blinked a couple more times, now completely awake. “……How long have you been here?! Get out!”  
——–  
Tom hurriedly placed a hand over her mouth, “shh shh shh. I’m here because I figured it out, I know how to unbind you.”

Ava was looking at him incredulously. This was the third time he has claimed to be able to free her this week. In his defense he had thought he figured it out, and the second attempt almost seemed to work, at least the mark had faded considerably…before it came back with a vengeance and was painful to the point Tom ended up having to support Ava lest she collapse on the stone floor.

“I’m sure this time.” He pulled out his wand, and motioned for her arm. “Let me see it.” He could taste his freedom.  
——  
Batting his hand away, Ava rolled her eyes before speaking in a low voice. “That’s what you said last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.” Still, she held her arm out to him. The snake glimmered and pulsed in the weak moonlight. “You better be completely sure this time. I don’t like nearly passing out.”

For the briefest of moments she thought about what could happen to Riddle once they escaped, but she quickly pushed the thought away. Her freedom was more important. She felt she would suffocate if she continued to stay there.  
——-  
Tom held her arm by a thin wrist that felt almost brittle in his hands, he knew better. He’d seen that Ava was anything but breakable. Still he was gentle when handling her.

“Your things better be ready to leave,” he placed the tip of the wand against the head of the ornate snake. The words he whispered were in the ancient language of his House.

He waited a moment…two…nothing happened. He glared at the stubborn serpent brand and gently rubbed it with his thumb, “It should have worked.” He said weakly.

“Wait! Ava look!”

It was gone.  
——-  
It was gone.

Riddle lay in the silence of his chambers, the bleakness of the darkness closing in around him as he felt a deep, hollow emptiness. Something had been cut away, rudely, abruptly and without warning. He had the sudden impulse to gasp for air, to grab at whatever power he could before he was plunged into the fearful unknown. But what the hell could possibly be causing something like this?

His pet.

The link with Ava was severed. Riddle shot up out of his bed, shuddering as he realized exactly what had caused him to wake as though from a nightmare, but rather than escaping one, he had fallen straight into one. His dear little bird was attempting to fly away. He’d be damned if he let her.

Riddle made for the secret passages to her room, beginning to rush as he heard his shoes tap against the worn stones of the castle floors. He needed to hurry if he was to catch her, to regain his control and re-create a semblance of that link until his Lordship returned and remedied this horrible situation.

But the question remained, who could possibly do such a thing? Who had the power, the knowledge? Who would dare oppose him?  
——–  
Ava, who had quite honestly been holding her breath, gave a sigh of relief once the mark vanished. “Oh thank god.” She got up from her bed and grabbed her boots, which contained everything she needed in its hidden pockets. In terms of clothing, her pajamas would have to do, because the only other thing she had to wear was one of Riddle’s fancy corseted dresses. “Okay. Let’s go. I can almost feel Riddle getting closer.”

Without thinking, she grabbed Tom’s arm. “Can you apparate? Trying to get through the wards on my door will take too long, and we need to get going.”  
——-  
As Riddle sped forward through the hidden passages of the fortress, his feet barely hit the ground. His ability to hover and float was advanced enough to make it easy to reach his destination quickly enough and yet, while he sensed that his connection with Ava had been unceremoniously severed, there was yet another presence here that seemed to resonate from deep within him. It was almost too familiar.

Riddle eased open the doors to Ava’s private quarters. The illustrious bird cage he had set up for his little pet had been exquisite by every meaning of the term. Everything from the ornate furniture to the blooming flowers painted lovingly on the walls seem to reek of affluence. It was a beautifully maintained cage.  
He floated into the room, not wanting to alert her with oncoming footsteps. The door closed soundly behind him.

Who would dare oppose him? Who could be powerful enough to untie the knot he had linked between himself and her?  
——  
“Of course I can’t apparate.” Voldemort had made sure that when he created his fortress that no one but himself and those he allowed could apparate within the boundaries. Tom was not one of those people, he was a high flight risk. “You don’t think that they would trust me that much do you.” he fumbled through a bag he had stashed at the side of Ava’s bed.

“I did come prepared though.” With a flourish he pulled out a small folded handkerchief. “Port Key,” was all he offered in explanation as he gingerly unfolded the cloth revealing an ornamental hair comb decorated with flowers and a small song bird. It, of course, had been one of the many lavish “gifts” Riddle must have given her. Tom had filched it after one of their failed meetings.

“On my cou-“ His words cut short. There was someone coming, they were close, maybe down the hall. He couldn’t tell for sure. He felt the energy in his gut, and had no way to gage the actual distance.

The door groaned open slowly, Riddle stood at the threshold. The rage in his eyes made Tom’s heart race in panic.

“Now Ava!” He only hoped she had reacted to his words and reached for the Port Key. The only way to be sure would be to arrive at the other end, because he didn’t see her when felt himself ripped back by the navel.  
—–  
Ava threw her hands up in exasperation. “Well how was I supposed to know? I haven’t seen you in over a month! The last time I saw you Riddle had me locked away in his room at the flat.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. No use getting worked up. Not when they were this close to escaping. “Sorry. I’m just nervous. If we get caught, I can kiss my existence goodbye. Because they /will/ kill me.”

When Tom revealed the port key, she couldn’t help but cringe. The comb was beautiful, but, once again, it didn’t feel right. It seemed too ornate for someone like her. Just another reminder as to how she was nothing but a pretty display piece for Riddle to dress up. “Alright. But we’re disposing this when we’re done. I’m not carrying it with us.”

The groan of the door tore her eyes from the comb to the entryway. Upon seeing Riddle, her eyes widened in fear, her hand flying to her throat almost unconsciously. She was right. He was going to kill her if they stayed a moment longer. At Tom’s words, she reached desperately at the port key, her eyes never leaving Riddle’s.  
——  
“Tom.” Riddle pointed at his brother, confusion slipping into clear, cold realization.

It all made sense now. The entire picture clicked into place with such startling clarity that Riddle could not bite back his gasp of horror. Tom had been helping Ava all along. Ava had been gathering Tom into her plans of escape. It all seemed to make sense as the pieces fell into place, Tom’s distant nature since his return, his disappearances from time to time, his furious studying well into the night hours, his visiting of Riddle’s dear little pet. He didn’t have the ability to feel angry beyond the jolt of shock that ran through him at the revelation.

His most beloved brother and his dear little pet. They stared at him, their eyes wide, panicked. They were both fleeing from him.

His body moved before he could give himself a chance to think further, to feel the sting of betrayal beyond the shock of the moment. He lunged forward, flinging himself at the two of them before they could escape, but it was already too late. With a hiss of frustration and anger, it dawned on Riddle that it would take much more than levitation and chasing to catch this duo, particularly if it were Tom that was planning the escape. Frankly, he could hardly believe it. Thanatos would perhaps betray him. Cidarim certainly would. But Tom…? His Tom? This had to be some sort of mistake.

They had managed to whisk themselves outside of the castle on some magical current, but Riddle hadn’t managed to catch a glimpse of anything that might have taken them away. He sighed in frustration, realizing that he would need to leave immediately to find them. He felt for Tom’s presence, now that Ava’s was torn from him completely. Tom was…just outside of the fortress’ grounds from what he could discern. They would be fleeing by foot form there, most likely.

But why? They were a happy family here. Why did they have to ruin this?

It took an incredible amount of power, but Riddle would be able to manage. He would have to, there was no choice. He needed to catch them both before they slipped through his fingers completely. Only his Lordship could apparate within the grounds of the castle, but Riddle had been collecting his Lordship’s power for quite some time now. He concentrated hard, summoned up his strength, focused on his destination and with a crack, he vanished.  
——–  
The ground rushed to meet him, and it stole his breath. Gasping, he looked around frantically for Ava. He needed her. The grass left his cloths damp, and a chill set in his bones almost immediately. The fortress had been warm, and he had not been outside in many a night. Still he bit back the cold and searched the immediate area for his escape partner.

“AVA!” he shouted, not seeing her, but maybe she had landed in the nearby bushes, or maybe she had been thrown further down the hill. He refused to believe that after all that work she hadn’t made it with him.   
——–  
Ouch. Okay, Ava /definitely/ didn’t like traveling by port key. But it had done its job, taking them outside the boundaries of the fortress. The next step was to find somewhere to stay. If they wanted safety, it would’ve been best to go to Aurora and her family. They would’ve understood, and would have had the protection of the MCUSA, as Aurora’s father was a key political figure. But unfortunately, she had completely (albeit reluctantly) cut ties with them after she had been captured the second time. They wouldn’t remember her if she went to them for help. So she and Tom would have to figure something else out.

She could almost feel the bruises forming on her body, as they had landed quite harshly on the ground. Her pajamas clung to her small frame in the damp night air. She looked around at her environment, shivering in the cold. Tom was nowhere to be seen. They must have gotten separated when they landed. Reaching into her boot, she pulled out a small flashlight and began searching for him.

As wonderful as her relative freedom was, it was also a bit strange for her. Without the mark, there wasn’t a pulsing sensation as she moved further from the castle, one that signaled a successful victory of escape. Then again, it didn’t feel like a victory. Unlike last time, the escape left a hollow feeling inside of her. It was an unnamable emotion, and it confused her. She was free now. There was nothing tying her to those still inside the fortress…….right?  
——  
A crack resounded and Riddle took a moment to survey his surroundings. The vision he had seen from Tom had revealed the forest surrounding the castle with surprising, startling clarity. His brother was feeling panic pulse through his system and he could only think as far as the next step ahead: Tom wanted to find Ava and escape. He was so panicked that he was forgetting his own ability to pick up on feelings, sensations and thoughts. How very careless of him.

Riddle stalked forward, floating silently to keep from alerting anyone of his presence. He flinched at the light which ignited in his vision and flashed off to the side. A…flash light? He peered closer and couldn’t help but smile fondly at what he found. His dearest little pet was trying to find her way out. He might not be able to sense her anymore, but she had all but led him to her with a trail of breadcrumbs. He floated forward, landing softly a few feet away.

“My little Canary…” His voice was soft, cold, and strangely inviting. “You’ve strayed quite far, haven’t you?” Before she could dash away, he had his wand drawn. With an effortless flourish, he held her in place as he neared her. His eyes were narrowed as they gleamed a faint red. “And carrying my dear brother away with you. That was so very…unexpected. I admit myself disappointed. You had so much promise, little one. So much promise…” He said faintly, running a single elegant fingertip across her jawline as he brought her eyes up to meet his. “All for nothing.”  
——-  
As soon as she heard his voice, Ava whipped around to face the newcomer. The beam from the flashlight lit up the face of her worst nightmare come true. Riddle had found her. With an audible, panicked gasp and a futile step back, the flashlight fell from her hand. How? How had he found them so quickly? There was just no way he could have gotten there in such a short amount of time. Unless……No. He couldn’t have. From what she gathered, only Voldemort could apparate on the grounds.

There was no time to dwell on that thought. She could figure it out later. Right now she had to get away. Find Tom.

…….Too late. She didn’t even get a chance to react before Riddle had drawn his wand, freezing her in place. Her heartbeat quickened, beating furiously. His anger before, when he had taunted her with the notion of her death, was nothing compared to the rage he now possessed. Her eyes reflected nothing but pure terror as he ran his finger along her jaw, forcing her to look into those glowing red eyes. She could feel any sense of hope disappearing as he loomed over her, her heart pounding in her ears. This was it. This was the end of the line. She just prayed that Tom was okay.  
———  
In the distance Tom saw a light waving around, and since no one else would be out skulking around at this time of night, he knew Ava must have made it. He was about to call out to her again when a loud crack, the telltale sign of apparation, and Riddle magicking into being held him back. He shouldn’t have been able to perform such magic, it was reserved for Lord Voldemort alone. Riddle was the closest to him though, and it made sense that he would be afforded such freedoms.   
Riddle headed straight for Ava, he didn’t see or sense Tom, though it should have been easy. His senses must have truly been muddled to make such a mistake as to leave his back exposed to an enemy so obviously near.

Cocky. There was no other word for it. Time in the fortress had made Riddle cocky.

Tom was prepared to take full advantage of it.

As he crept closer, he caught bits and pieces of what Riddle said, enough to make it clear that he thought Ava had made Tom come with her. Infuriating, 9As if he couldn’t make up his own mind in anything. Would he always be stuck as the innocent in Riddle’s mind, unable to do a damn thing for himself?!

He drew his wand.

He would show them all how much he could do for himself.

Tom aimed at the greenery not too far away, but enough that it wouldn’t hurt the pair. He needed to get Ava and Riddle separated. He couldn’t afford her to get hurt.

“EXPULSO!” and the night pulsed as a shrub exploded.  
——-  
The little bird was locked in his gaze now, entrapped by his magic, entranced by his words. It would be nothing to push her over the edge. A taunt here, a touch there, an unfulfilled promise and a wicked curse to follow. He would teach her respect. He would make her pay for her treachery and she would crawl back to him. She would beg him for mercy, for guidance…for love.

He laughed, tilting his head curiously as he leaned in to whisper. “Did you think you could escape me? You weak, delicate little nestling. I’ll keep you in your cage until I see fit, do you understand?” His fingers slid from her jawline to her throat, tightening ever so slowly, so heartbreakingly gently. “You’re mine to do with as I-”

Riddle gasped as he hit the ground hard. The aftershock was as painful as the attack itself. He snapped himself back to attention. If there was anything that a horcrux was good at, it was survival. He had to reserve this power he had collected in any way he possibly could, and that meant becoming battle ready in a matter of seconds. He scowled at being interrupted. Who could possibly dare to attack him while he-

Riddle sucked in air. It was Tom. Tom had attacked. Tom had attacked him. Riddle felt a rush of dizziness at the realization. “Tom?” He sighed, gazing at him in disbelief. “Tom, put your wand down. It’s me.” A smile played at the edges of Riddle’s lips, though his irises were glowing a deep crimson by now. The power coursing through his system was borrowed directly from their lordship, but he couldn’t possibly turn it on his own brother, his dearest brother.

“I’m here to take you home.” He continued gently.  
——  
Tom was pleased to see that the pair flew away from one another. Ava didn’t move through, and he was afraid he had hurt her, despite not hitting them directly. There was not much time to think of her though, when Riddle was in front of him. The glow in his eyes, red, was the sign of the power Voldemort had gifted. Tom, had he given into the sweetness their Lord offered, could have had those same eyes. It had left his older self half mad though. A double edge sword. “I will not.” He held his wand steady, trained on the lithe form of Riddle in his dashing, if not overly adorned, robes. Even with the dirt covering him, he was beautiful. Tom felt his heart ache, he had never come so close to loving another, and he found himself in a position where he would have to hurt his brother or perish. Tom was a survivor. He always had been. He wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way, not even himself, albeit an older more cunning version. “Anywhere you are could never possibly be my home. I’m leaving, and I’m taking Ava with me. You can go back yourself, rot in that fortress on your back. You’re good for nothing else besides.” The words cut Tom as he said them, but he tried not to let it show. If only he could trust Riddle, they could have all gone together. Once he had already proved himself untrustworthy, and Tom didn’t like to make the same mistake twice.  
——–  
Riddle’s smile faded immediately as he watched Tom carefully as he spoke, taking careful note of the inflections in his voice, his tone, his scorn and anger. Riddle had to admit to himself that the words themselves hurt. At a base level, he was hearing the cutting remarks but there was something deep beyond it that brought Riddle a modicum of sense: the words sounded forced. He took a closer look at his younger counterpart.

The wide eyes, even in their anger looked scared and focused. The hand holding his wand was steady at first glance, but Riddle sensed a tremor the longer he continued to watch. Even though just a few years separated them, and yet Tom looked so heartbreakingly young, so terribly innocent.

“You know…” The older man began slowly. “If you’re going to be making cutting remarks, you’ll need to put some weight behind them. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as you’re trying to insult me.” He laughed a bit sadly. True, it was a sharp barb to hear him tear away at his relationship with his lordship, but there was a note of longing within Tom that he couldn’t deny. Riddle didn’t just hear it within his voice, he sensed it like a vibration.

“I’m not angry with you. I’m not upset. I promise. Our lordship will be so pleased to see you. He won’t hurt you, he’ll welcome you home.” Riddle took a few slow steps forward. “Everything will be fine. Tom, I-” His smooth voice caught, causing him to take a deep breath swallow before continuing.

“I miss you.”   
——  
Still frozen in place, Ava watched their interactions from the sidelines, taking note of intentions and masked emotions with mild curiosity.   
—–  
Tom felt deflated. Was he so easy to see through? His one talent was talking to people and making them believe what he what he said was true, had he really become so unpracticed in these past months?

Still he held his wand at the ready, he inched toward Ava.

“I miss you too.” he sighed. He would try the truth then. “You aren’t you anymore.” he didn’t keep the hurt from his voice, the heartbreak he felt at the loss of his best friend.

Ava was laying stiff in the grass, her night cloths slowly soaking through. He wondered how much she could hear, what sort of spell she was under. If he could just get to her, he could release her from it and she would be able to help manage Riddle.   
There would only be one shot at this.  
“I loved you! You fool.” A tremor ran through him.

“Incarserous!” black ropes, like snakes at his command, shot from his wand and wrapped themselves around Riddle, but they wouldn’t hold him longer than a moment. The dash over to Ava’s side was a scrambling and frantic one. He slid next to her prone body on the wet grass, and murmured counter curse after counter curse in rapid fire till her shoulders sagged.

He placed a hand gently on her face, “are you okay?”  
——–  
“I’m fine. Give me your robe. I’m bloody freezing.” Tom handed over his outermost robe.

“He’s already drawing on too much power from his reserves. We just need to get rid of the rest. I’m going to confront him. What I need you to do is use this.” She handed him a page from her notebook, neatly folded. Upon unfolding it, it revealed the runes and incantation of the blasted spell. The power-draining one that had started this madness in the first place. “I was just going to do my own research,” she justified. “I didn’t intend on using it. I know it’s going to hurt you to use it on him, but we have to. If we don’t drain him, he’s going to capture us. Because, no offense, but you’re weak. It’s not on purpose, but your relationship with Riddle holds you back from dealing any serious damage. And I have no magical qualities at my disposal.” She pressed the page into his hands, trusting him to perform the spell.

She stood up, stretched, and cracked her hands. Time to get to work. In a manner that was almost inhuman, she stalked towards Riddle, her eyes glowing murderously. While he was still bound, she snatched his wand away before proceeding to kick him in the groin, and, when he was low enough, punched him in the face. Any fear that was once in her eyes was long gone.

“You’re pathetic.” Unlike Tom, her words were poisonous and razor sharp. She knew what she was saying and needed no internal convincing. “Do you really think dragging us back will win back your lord’s favor? He’s moved on to bigger and better things. Why do you think he gave you that name? You’re nothing but a trinket used for your beauty. We both know that Voldemort looks the way he does out of choice. The good looks that you all shared at one point were nothing but a crutch for him. Honestly, the only thing you’re good for is lying on your back for him when he tires of his other partners. Your pride and lust have blinded you and driven you mad with delusions. There’s no such thing as a happy family.”

As she spoke, she could vaguely feel the remainder of his energy being syphoned off, forcing him into his locket.   
——-  
“You lo-” He had managed to choke out before the ropes tightened around his torso, arms and legs. Tom was right in thinking that those snake-like bindings would not hold him for long, but, it was more his words that kept Riddle from immediately reacting. He gasped, staggering back as the words stuck in his head, echoing over and over again. In all that he had done for his lordship, all the nights that they spent together, all the sweet-nothings that had been whispered in his ear, he had never heard the words, I love you.

He knew it was a ploy to distract him. He knew that Tom felt nothing for him aside from a vague fondness perhaps, and even that seemed to be dying quick between them but Riddle couldn’t help but give himself a moment of undefinable pleasure, of unnamable warmth. Riddle didn’t have the luxury time though. He struggled against the bindings with his own cutting spell, narrowly avoiding slicing himself open as he did so, but he was no rookie at spell-casting after all. Of course, being a good wizard didn’t manage to save him from his little bird’s wrath.

He took the hit to the groin and face with a yelp, doubling over helplessly, exactly the way she had wanted it. The attack was crude but the pain was incredible for the first few seconds. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but he made sure to milk it for all that it was worth and give his little bird exactly what she wanted. He gasped, looking terrified as she loomed over him, spouting off would-be self-righteous attacks about what she thought she knew. Oh, how little she realized that in trying to hurt him, she had come painfully close to the mark.

Not close enough, of course.

With her distracted by her own speech and his hands freed from the bindings, he summoned his wand to himself. Wandless magic cost him a great deal of effort, but it was a necessary sacrifice as he managed to free himself in a matter of seconds thereafter. In one swift, fluid motion, he was on his feet, defenseless expression forgotten completely as he loomed over her.

He grabbed Ava by the throat and yanked her forward, turning her to face Tom. Putting the tip of his wand elegantly to her temple he breathed deeply for a moment before he caught his breath and laughed sardonically. “I can’t believe it’s come to this, brother…” He trailed, looking both sad and assured all at once. “Whatever you are planning, abandon it now. It’s over.” He sustained, pressing the tip of his wand to her head for emphasis.  
—–  
At her bidding he cast the spell, and then she was upon him with a fury he didn’t know someone so small could possess. When she made contact with his groin Tom almost sucked in a breath himself.  
The paper he was holding drew his eyes. He recognized these words. These were the notes he had come back to the flat for in the first place…the reason he had been captured! The reason he had spent the last few months in a hell hole!

It had been right there the whole time.  
How many times had he seen her tuck away her little journal, never thinking twice about it?

Laughter rose in his chest and bubbled past his lips.

By the time Riddle had turned the tides with the little bird, he was gasping for breath.

“Kill her for all I care!” he pocketed the scrap of paper and took a daring step forward.

Ava might have said something but he couldn’t hear her over the laughter that still roared in his head. Here he was, draining Riddle as he stood and in possession of the one thing that would free him from all this madness.

His long legs moved at a ground eating pace and he was before them, grabbing a stunned Riddle by the wrist of his wand hand, freeing Ava. As he drew nearer the faster he drained magic.

“No? I thought not.” he grabbed the stunned with a smirk befitting even their Lord.

By the lapels, Tom drew Riddle down so they were face to face. “You were right, it is over. Goodbye.”

Tom’s lips crushed against Riddle’s in what might have seemed like passion to anyone watching, but it was a final blow to the Horcrux.

A locket fell to the ground, shining in the moonlight. He picked it up gently, with care.

“Ava, I have a present for you.” he hung the long chain around her delicate neck. “I feel like this won’t be the last time we see him.” he smiled down at her, and the necklace. “Take care of him, he wasn’t always so…” he sighed, and left it at that.   
——-  
He didn’t know, did he? Or maybe he had forgotten in his absence. Riddle worked almost exclusively through physical contact. By hanging the locket around her neck, Tom had put her right into Riddle’s hands. Was it an accident? Or was he really that cunning in his betrayal?

For such a heavy locket, it felt perfectly into place and felt relatively light against her sternum. Something tickled at the back of her mind, a creeping sensation that eased her agitated thoughts into something smooth, fluid and calm. She felt the ghost of a heartbeat against her own, the lingering warmth of an embrace. She tried to block it all out. She needed to focus on the task at hand.

She took a deep breath before responding. “Yes, I know he wasn’t always like this. You forget I’ve been with the two of you for a long time now.” She absently ran her fingers along the edges of the locket. “Don’t worry. I may hate him with everything I have, but I’m not a monster. I’ll take care of him as best I can.” She gave him a shaky smile, one that she hoped he would interpret as nerves after what just happened. “Now, we should probably get going. We don’t need any more delays and I’m itching to get as far away from this place as I can.”  
——-  
Riddle quirked an eyebrow as Tom stepped forward. The laughter was jarring, unnerving and entirely unexpected, which is what Riddle supposed Tom meant it to be. There was a madness in his eyes that seemed to ebb away at whatever sanity had been within Tom’s words. His grip on the wand tightened as Tom screamed for him to kill her, taunting him with that terrible, insane smile. “You doubt me? You don’t think-” Riddle’s breath hitched.

The spell. The spell was already cast. He was trapped by it. His hands began to shake as he felt the remained of his own power being siphoned off and sucked away. He gripped Ava, but not as a threat, but more as support. He gasped, feeling himself weaken. “Tom, what are you doing?” He demanded, sounding neither angry nor enraged, but for the first time in ages, afraid.

“You have no idea what you’re doing!” He shouted, feeling his thoughts becoming sluggish, and unclear. His body felt hard to move and exhaustion crept into his limbs before he had a chance to even try to magic it away. “Tom, don’t!” His other self was stepping forward now and with each footfall, he began to realize exactly how much he must have overlooked his younger self not to see the hatred within his eyes until this moment. Had Tom really just confessed his love not a few moments ago? “I’ll lose everything-” He gasped, staggering now as the world spun beneath his feet.

He recalled a warm embrace from a more powerful, more dependable rendition of himself. He remembered feeling wanted, having purpose, and being important. He remember laughing with someone far more innocent than he could ever hope to be once again. He wanted to protect that young innocent desperately, to make them feel as safe and accepted as possible. He remembered belonging. He remembered feeling as though he genuinely had reason to smile. There was less and less and less to draw upon until…

_What was happening? Who is this pretty young girl and why does she make my heart ache? Who was this man and why was he grabbing him by the lapels? Why was he so terrified?_

The kiss between them felt blessedly, beautifully, crushingly warm. And then it felt like nothing at all.

 


	5. Things Once Lost: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery is rarely pretty. And sometimes what's lost in the process can never be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been so long since this has been updated! But, if you remember correctly, this is written entirely through rp threads and drabbles between my friends and I. Sadly our lives became very busy and we didn't have time to keep up with the AU until fairly recently. But, without further ado, here's the next chapter! As the story works in real time, the events here take place anywhere from January to June.

Part 1: A Change in the Game

Nearly two weeks had gone by since Ava had received her relative freedom from the Dark Lord and his horcruxes. Life was starting to settle down in her opinion, although she continued to keep a sharp eye on her surroundings. It couldn’t have taken Voldemort more than a day or so to figure out what was wrong with the fortress upon his return. He likely had someone, if not himself, out looking for her and her two companions, so she had to be battle ready and able to flee at a moment’s notice. Luckily that had become almost second nature to her over the course of the past six months. She was almost always on guard nowadays.

Speaking of having to be on guard, Riddle had regained consciousness a couple days after the escape. He didn’t seem to be able to become corporeal at the moment, which was just fine for Ava. Just hearing his voice in her head every so often was more than enough. He was different though. More like when she had first restored the locket. He didn’t seem to remember her (or Tom, for that matter), so his words were once again sickly sweet and dripping with charm. But even though he didn’t remember what he did, Ava remembered everything. Her responses to Riddle were tired and exasperated at best. He had damaged something within her, and she just didn’t have the mental endurance to keep going at it with him like before. She still refused to give him the satisfaction of “winning”, but her tone was quite as venomous as it could have been.

Tom was changing too. Ever since she had given him the spell (which she luckily had had enough foresight to copy it down twice, just in case) he had started to slowly lose grip on reality. In his own way, he too was going mad. Ghosting her fingers over the inky runes scrawled in her notebook, Ava sometimes had to wonder what it was about this spell that brought on all this destruction and madness. Because as much as anyone could try to deny it, the overwhelming majority of events within the past few months could be traced back to when the spell was first noted by Tom. Many months later, he seemed to be just as obsessed with it. To be honest, his actions were starting to scare her.

With everything going on, it was hard to paint the illusion of innocence and ignorance, but she managed. She tried her best to lay low and keep out of trouble, but one could only do so much considering her personality. Not to mention that there weren’t a lot of people walking around in Victorian-esque clothing. (She’d tried to readjust to her former wardrobe, but unfortunately Riddle had completely warped her in that regard.) It was only a matter of time before she was discovered, along with the other two. With each passing day, she hoped to buy just a little more time. But her luck was fading fast.

 

Part 2: Awakening

He was aware of another presence. He knew that even before he could comprehend what that meant in terms of his thought process. Slowly but surely, he felt himself being empowered. Words came back to him in bits and pieces, shadows of cohesive thoughts began to form before he finally felt himself close to becoming even slightly complete.

What was he called? What was his name? He simply couldn’t…recall.

He Both presences felt familiar with him. He felt the overwhelming need to lock hands with them, link his fingers tight with theirs. Pull them close to him. Whisper to them…but whisper what, exactly? He had no idea. He couldn’t even begin to remember who he was, let alone who was in his company.

“Who are you…?”  
——  
Ava ran her fingers through her hair and yawned. She’d been going at this text for hours and was getting nowhere. She just couldn’t focus. Tucking the books away in the bookshelf, she sighed. With Tom out doing………whatever it was he was up to these days, and Riddle tucked away quietly in his locket, her days were filled with the silence she had longed for once upon a time. Now it just felt empty.

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt Riddle’s presence in the back of her mind. She could faintly detect hints of familiarity and longing, but they were masked by the overwhelming sensation of confusion. Riddle apparently had no idea what was going on. The corner of her mouth twitched into a smirk at his amnesia. She could have some fun with this. The expression quickly faded, however. She was too tired to try anything today. Maybe the next time her turn came around she would play with him a bit. Give him a taste of the hell he put her through for so long. But not today. Today she would just answer his questions, like she had done many months ago.

“My name is Cassava Asterope Davenport, Mister Riddle.”  
——-  
“Cassava Asterope Davenport.”

He repeated the name back to her, relishing how very musical it sounded when he allowed the words to settle comfortably between them. There was something of a smugness about her feelings towards him, a sense of wicked delight only dampened slightly by her exhaustion.

“So, you know my name, Cassava?”

The question was innocent enough without admitting that he had no idea if that was his actual name or not. Riddle seemed to resonate with him. There was a remarkable amount of anger and self-consciousness that arose with it when he heard it, and yet it sounded as though he had heard it called at him time and time again. In anger, in fondness, in passion. He had known the sound of it as fondly as he had known his own…body…?  
——-  
She took as deep of a breath as her corset allowed, letting her full name linger in the air. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually heard it said by someone other than herself. It gave her mixed emotions, since, as musical as it sounded, it brought back bitter memories of a past long forgotten.

“There isn’t a witch or wizard alive who doesn’t,” she responded to his question, neither confirming nor denying what he said. “You’re quite infamous, after all. Of course, the name you gave yourself is even more widespread. Almost as far as Gellert Grindelwald.”

In her own way, she was testing the waters; seeing how much of his knowledge was destroyed. Could he not even remember any of his names? She sensed his confused anger and shame at being referred to as “Riddle”. It was, after all, the despised last name of his Muggle father. Not to mention that the reason he was called “Riddle” was because he was the embodiment of the part of his past that his core self that had sworn off long ago: the beautiful manipulation through connections and physical contact. As someone who hated her own name, she could sympathize.  
——-  
“Cassava Asterope Davenport.”

Riddle repeated the name again, letting the name linger on his tongue, enjoying the feel of it, but knowing that something was slightly off about it. “Cassava.” There was a discontented sigh that followed it this time. “Cass…that’s not quite it. Maybe it is…”

There was a wicked smile in his voice. He pulled her consciousness deeper, knowing this time he had the right idea. “Ava…Do you prefer Ava, by any chance? That name seems to suit you so well.”

So far, the clues that she had dropped for him were remarkably clear, for someone trying to be so enigmatic. Her reference to him being ‘infamous’ was more telling than the name dropping with the previous dark wizard of his century. He didn’t give half a damn about Gellert Grindlewald. He felt somehow at home speaking of his ‘name’, yet the idea of being called ‘Riddle’ was somewhat repulsive.

“So, Ava-dear,” Riddle began in all fondness. “What’s a lovely young thing like you doing in a subconscious like this?”  
——-  
She didn’t answer at first. Eventually she sighed in acknowledgement of the nickname, confirming it. “Yes, most people know me as Ava. You, however, have always preferred your more…….personal nicknames.”

She scowled at the memories of his words. While she had long given up on fighting him on that aspect of their relationship, his personal nicknames had been demeaning at best. She tried her best not to think about them too much, as dwelling on those thoughts led to her to relive the kinds of events that made her strong resolve waver.

Ava had to blink a couple times when he started drawing her in deeper. She couldn’t let herself get carried away, not with everything going on. She had to stay focused and alert. There was no telling when fate would throw its next curve ball.

“That would probably be because it’s my own subconscious.” She responded, words laced in sarcasm. Still, she didn’t sound entirely sure. The lines were blurring faster than she could keep up. “You’re the intruder, /Riddle-dear/.”  
——-  
“So, I know you quite well then?” Riddle’s voice lowered an touch, becoming a deeply satisfied purr. He sensed a remarkable distaste within her words and reactions though at the prospect of being called by any personal nicknames. He made a mental note not to touch on the subject…yet.

“Ava it is then. It’s quite a lovely name, I think. It shall do quite nicely.” He responded, guilelessly, allowing her the need to have her own moniker. Taking away that at this point in the relationship would be tantamount to stealing away part of her identity. That was moving far too quickly for his liking.

Riddle gasped, sounding scandalized. “An unwanted visitor? Within you?” He continued, letting the words hang between them suggestively. There was certainly a wicked smile in his tone to match his grim joke. “Or your mind, rather. Either way, if you do not want my company, Ava, I’ll not be offended. I’ll flit away once again. Is that how you’d prefer it?”

He was genuinely curious at this. What did she prefer, after all? His company, or no company at all?  
——–  
“That’s one way to put it,” Ava grumbled, irked at both his tone and the implication behind his words. She sighed. Why was he so hung up on her name? There really wasn’t anything special about it. She faintly sensed that he was holding back on something more concerning her name, but it was hard to know what. Riddle had always been good at keeping secrets when he needed to. She would let it go. For now.

Then he asked such a loaded question and her breath hitched. Shit. She didn’t necessarily /prefer/ his company, but the idea of once again being left with nothing but the overwhelming silence of her thoughts was unbearable. When she finally spoke, it was hesitant and almost reluctant in nature. “I……… I guess……you can, um,……..stay.”

Even though he probably couldn’t see her, she turned her face away, blushing, and coughed. She was clearly uncomfortable with not only his suggestive tone, but also her own words.  
——-  
Of course she still wanted him there. There was a certain smugness in his aura, his voice when he spoke next, an expectant attraction as he drew her in.

“Oh, that’s so kind of you, Ava.” He responded softly. “In truth, I don’t know where I would be without you.” He trailed almost longingly. “I feel as though I know you from somewhere, Ava. Have we met before?”

Really, the comment was meant to be endearing, something offhanded he would admit to worm his way into someone’s thoughts when he was away, but it was the truth when it came to this newcomer. There was something remarkably familiar about this fond exchange, something that felt distinctly loaded about her reactions to him. Her responses were guarded, as though she simply could not tell if she was revealing far too much of herself or of someone else.  
——  
She could feel his self-satisfaction at her reluctant admission, causing her to scowl. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but……

It was all his fault. He had made her too comfortable with his toxic presence. He’d poisoned her and she now she was living with the effects.

She was in the middle of rolling her eyes at his words when she stopped. He was asking if they had a past. Not having nearly as much skill in manipulation as Tom Riddle (no matter the version), she couldn’t quite sense if he was just saying that to gain information, or if he was genuinely curious. She visibly stiffened, taking her time in trying to decide on how to navigate this mine field of a question.

“Oh?” Her voice was extremely calm, with a touch of playful inquisitiveness. “What makes you think that? If we had met before, I’m sure you would have remembered me at the beginning of this conversation.”  
——  
“Recalling the past is not that simple.” Riddle sighed. There was a playful inquisitiveness to her voice that intrigued him to no end though. There was something challenging and freeing about her presence all at once. He had encountered her before. He must have. This exchange seemed so startlingly familiar and yet refreshing all the same, like recalling the words to a familiar tune in the midst of singing.

“I could do my best to try to bring up recollections, but things seem rather hazy. Forgive me, Ava. I seem to be a touch out of sync with reality.” He admitted gently, trying to search her mind for something that might have been kindness, or understanding. Perhaps even a hint of fondness, but that was a stretch.

These were the sorts of emotions he could garner the most power from. He could feel them like a vibration, a wavelength and it attracted him to no end. These feelings of love and fondness were the most useful to him by far.  
——–  
“Hmmm,” she hummed, lacing her fingers behind her head and leaning back in her desk chair. “Don’t bother trying to remember. I’m honestly not that important. You don’t need to overwork yourself for my sake.” A half truth. It didn’t bother her if he wanted to strain himself trying to grasp at the faded memories of their past. She just didn’t want him to recall certain events he would no doubt use against her. Her goal was to move forward, not get dragged back into the past.

She could feel him poking around in her mind. If he was looking for something he could use, he wouldn’t find much. Most of her emotions these days were nothing but sparks of indignation or defiance. Everything else was just blissful emptiness. Any remaining traces of love or fondness were overshadowed by immense nostalgia, as they were always attached to her memories of her almost-family, the one she had painfully parted with. It had been for the best.

 

Part 3: A Familiar Feeling

He felt right at home. He felt the gentle pulse against his own and it felt so damned familiar it was almost as though there was a scent, a touch, an entire individual that went with it. There was overwhelming fondness that washed over him as he leaned into this presence, needing more, wanting more,

But there was always something that held him back, something that warned him that not all was as it seemed. Something that made fear shoot through his being like an alarm, a warning.

He wanted to cling to this newcomer. Yet, he was well aware that sometimes poison tasted sweet when first swallowed.

“Hello…?”  
——-  
A tingling against his chest brought Tom from his thoughts. They hadn’t been gone from the fortress long, but it had taken Riddle longer to regain power than he had initially theorized.

Guilt, however fleeting, was present when he remembered forcing Riddle back into his locket prison. It was necessary, but he knew it would hurt his brother. once he was able to speak with them again, Tom was sure he would never hear the end of it.

When the voice, more felt than heard, finally spoke to him it sounded so…unlike Riddle and yet exactly as he should be. Exactly how he had been before everything. Something had happened, but it was hard to tell what.

“Finally you grace me with your company brother. I was wondering how long you were going to sulk and make me wait for you.”  
—–  
“My brother?”

There was the sudden urge within him to reach out, to touch his counterpart, to run his fingertips along his jawline and pull him close, to assure him that everything would be just fine as long as he kept clinging hopelessly to that locket. The name came to him, mundane, yet remarkable and beautiful to him personally. Resonant and perfect for the young man sharing his presence.

“Tom.”

There was a smile in that airy tone. There was something so strikingly familiar about this exchange, yet he couldn’t seem to place it. All in all, if there was poison hidden in this greeting, he couldn’t sense it. Not yet.

“Tom, weren’t we so much more than just brothers?”  
——-  
With the casual tone Riddle naturally shrouded his words in, Tom couldn’t tell if the question was rhetorical. Something tickled on the edge of his mind though, that told him this was more than just fishing for a reassurance of their bond.

Tom ran a thumb gently along the smooth edge of the locket, it has been so long since he felt it’s weight against his chest, but these were memories long before Riddle had been created.

In his memories it had never felt so warm, and alive.

“How else would you describe our bond? It is both fitting and at the same time a preposterous thing to label us. Tell me, are you angry? Is that why you’ve stayed buried in there for so long?”  
—–  
Riddle felt the electric thrill of contact and couldn’t help but release a contented sigh. This newcomer, Tom, knew exactly how to work Riddle’s container and yet, there was the slight implication that he wasn’t exactly aware of the power he held over the soul within it.

Riddle reached out to him, mentally, soaking in the warmth, the vitality as though it were sunlight. “Tom.” He repeated the name, relishing the sound of it, knowing the familiarity of it. He remembered murmuring it when he was close to sleep, running his fingertips through the hair of the other, whispering hopes, dreams, thoughts. Eating…ice cream…?

“I adore you. I’m not certain why or how I know, but I do.”

The answer was immediate and rather easy for Riddle to say. He reached out to draw his counterpart in further. “I was not upset with you, brother. I was so very tired. So drained, I feared I would fade away. What happened to me, my darling?”

 

Part 4:

“Oh Toooooom! It’s been far too long! How have you been, my friend?”  
———–  
Tom brushed his hair back, ruffling it from its usually perfect wave. “Riddle…” he didn’t know what to say, and had no idea how to process the emotional gambit he was running through. “I had no idea you were back.”

“You look good.” And Riddle did look good in his hand embroidered suit and and shining shoes. There were no longer circles under his dark sparkling eyes. There was madness there, but not the kind he had come to know from Riddle, it was the thing of madness that always seemed to lurk behind he eyes of the truly genius.  
——–  
Riddle stepped forward fluidly, his body moving with a feline grace as he neared his counterpart. His memory was still far hazier than he was willing to admit to. Frankly, he only remembered shadows of emotions. The fear, the fondness were so uniquely intertwined when it came to his companion that Riddle couldn’t help but feel an attraction to him. There was the undeniable need to know more, to have answers.

“Tom.” He began softly, reaching out to gently fix his hair back into it’s proper place. “Thank you, I appreciate your kind words. I wish I could return them.” He gave his companion an appraising look, taking note of his messy hair and the hint of anxiety within his dark eyes. He was…afraid of something, perhaps. “You seem upset.” He took a step nearer. “Is there something you’d like to speak of, my friend?”  
——–  
Tom rubbed his eyes, he always seemed to be rubbing sleep and weariness out of them these days. He knew he looked a mess, but things had not gone well once he and Ava had split. Her with the locket and Tom…with nothing.

He had long given up looking for her, and by the time Riddle has resurfaced Tom was in such a rut that he often skipped meals out of sheer forgetfulness, and went several days in the same shirt. He was constantly disheveled and drew side eyes in respectable establishments.

Voldemort had been persistent, and Tom had resorted to taking a pretty hefty loan from a very nasty loan shark in New York to stay underground. America had not been nice to him, and he soon found himself on the run from not only Voldemort but his Debts as well.

“How is Ava?” Tom asked, deliberately diverting the conversation.

 

Part 5

“Ava…” The word settled on his lips as though it were something new, foreign and slightly uncomfortable. “Ava, what has happened?” His memory was so terribly hazy, and yet, he still felt the need to get confirmation from her. She was necessary somehow.  
———  
Ava was certainly a necessary piece to Riddle’s absent memories. And yet…..

Both of her companions had taken too long. She and Tom had agreed to split up for a couple weeks, create a distraction and make it harder to find them. But weeks had turned to months, and Tom hadn’t returned.

Then there was the subject of Riddle himself. Despite the energy she allowed him to take, she hadn’t heard a word from him in weeks. He seemed to have once again retreated back into the depths of his locket.

Ava had never been one for patience or dead silence. As someone who thrived on chaos and human interaction, she couldn’t handle having to hide quietly and silently tiptoeing around as she tried to go through her daily life. Even though she was no longer bound to Voldemort and the others, she still felt burdened by invisible chains. She needed to be able to live without reservations. She needed to be completely free. So she left. If Tom returned, or Riddle finally came out of his trinket, they wouldn’t find her at the flat. The only thing she left behind was a brief note with instructions for Riddle to find Tom if he hadn’t returned and wishing them luck with everything. Their little bird had flown away with no intention of returning anytime soon.

…when he asked the question, Riddle was met with silence.

 

Part 6: New Vices

“When did you pick up that habit?”

Ava looked up from lighting her cigarette at the brunette standing in the doorway. “I don’t know. A while ago,” she replied without removing it. “You try going through hell and back without finding some sort of outlet.”

“You know my parents are going to kill you if they find out.” Aurora took a seat next to her friend on the bed.

“Then don’t tell them.” Ava shrugged. It had been a couple of months since she had last spoken to /them/, and she was adjusting to her new life of freedom. Nothing had happened after her last escape, and, after enough time had passed, she made the decision to move on with her life.

England wasn’t safe for her at the moment, so she’d packed up her flat and traveled back to the US. Other than the physical horcruxes, there wasn’t a single trace of her left behind. She wasn’t worried about them trying to find her. It would be incredibly difficult for them to track her down, especially without the mark marring her arm.

At the moment, she was living in one of the Blanchard Manor’s guest rooms, having restored their memories using a couple tricks she had up her sleeve. Eventually she’d get her own place, maybe even go back to London, but for now this was home.

After a couple more attempts, she finally lit up, and the smoky scent of the cigarette filled the room. Leaning back onto the dark red sheets, she took a long drag and sighed contentedly. “Thanks for letting me stay here by the way.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “I’ve been trying to get you to move in for years now. Someone has to keep an eye on you.” Wrinkling her nose at the stench of Ava’s newest vice, she muttered a quick spell to get rid of the odor.

“Please. We both know you’re just as bad as I am. If anyone is keeping an eye on me, it’s Axel.” Ava smirked and blew some smoke in Aurora’s face teasingly, laughing as the other attempted to bat it away.

“Merlin, this feels amazing,” she sighed, smiling warmly. “I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed. I swear I was going insane, always having to look over my shoulder for one of those sociopathic bastards.”

“It’s nice to see you like this again. I missed that light in your eyes. The last time I saw you, you’d already gotten so guarded against the world. Even more so than usual. Those horcruxes really did a number on you.”

Ava’s smile faltered. “Y-yeah.” She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands, cigarette still smoldering in her fingers. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I survived.” She looked up at her friend, her eyes dancing with the deep emotions of someone who had been forced to grow up too quickly. “I’m still here.”

 

Part 7: Past the Point of No Return

It only took a month for her to once again become tangled in the affairs of Tom Riddle. She ran her fingers wearily through her raven hair when she was given the news. Apparently, Tom had been to New York. As America’s governing wizarding body, MCUSA had eyes everywhere. And he had been spotted not too long ago, fleeing from someone or something. When Otis Blanchard caught wind of someone matching his description leaving the country, he came to Ava for assistance. She was, after all, the one person outside of Tom Riddle himself who probably knew him best at this point. With a heavy sigh, she almost reluctantly agreed to see what she could find out. Almost.

Because at the same time, there was a small flutter in her heart at the prospect of, for lack of a better term, reuniting with them again. If she was being honest, things hadn’t exactly been good for her lately. At first, she had been thriving in her freedom away from the dark miasma Tom Riddle always seemed to carry with him. She was happy and at peace for the first time in almost a year. But then the ache set in. She hadn’t understood why, but it felt like something was missing. Something unnamable.

She found herself waking up in the middle of the night at the slightest noises, heart thumping against her chest, reaching out blindly for the supposed intruder. And she had taken up wearing her old pocket watch again, just to have the weight around her neck. Anyone could see what was happening. As much as she wanted so desperately to deny it, she missed them. She /needed/ them. Her soul was so entangled with theirs that she was slowly coming undone without those that she claimed to hate the most.

“You don’t have to do this, Cass,” Aurora said, almost pleading with the dark-haired girl. “You don’t have to go back to them. MCUSA can figure it out without you.”

Ava smiled sadly at her friend. “We both know that’s a lie. Besides, you know as well as I do that I /want/ to do this.” She sighs, her eyes tired and melancholy. She looked down at her hands, in a way that was reminiscent of their conversation about a month ago. “They’re my heroin, Rori. I…. I don’t think I can live without them.”

“It’s not too late. We can still change that. You don’t have to depend on them like this. You can find a way to live without them.”

Ava shook her head, rolling her eyes at the suggestion. “Thanks, but no thanks. I have a job to do first. Your dad is promising me something pretty big for my cooperation, so I need to hold on a little longer before I can look for a solution. Just…..just trust me on this, Rori. I know what I’m doing.”

She ran her fingers over the timepiece hanging from her neck. “At least, I think I do.”

 

Part 8: Empty

The apartment was empty.

The physical emptiness of it was not quite so staggering as the strange echo of an emotion that hit Riddle as he stepped through the doorway. Strange hollow memories played out before him, the words of arguments forgotten bubbling forth and fading away like wisps of fog. Names of other individuals coming to the forefront before becoming jumbled. All throughout, he had the nagging feeling that he needed to be here. Somehow, it was here that he would find answers.

All in a wave, the longing hit him. His fingertips tingled unpleasantly with the need to touch another individual, as though it were an absolute necessity. He thirsted for control as though it were water to a parched man. He felt the sudden need to have his counterpart around him, to have the power which he had been promised…

Promised…?

The entire concept seemed foreign. As crushingly fast as it had hit him, the wave of longing faded away into his broken mind. He ran his fingertips over the heavy locket at his sternum and heaved a sigh. He heard the door creak open behind him. “Ava.” He greeted, his smile easy and relieved. “You’re home late from work. You really shouldn’t push yourself. You’re capable of so much more than that waitressing job, you know.” He laughed, leaning back on the entryway. The memory played itself out before him, and yet this time, things seemed to shift just slightly, as though he had tilted his head just so to get an entirely different perspective of the scene.

Ava tilted her head, her long, black hair falling delicately across her face as her usually cold expression softened into confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again as though thinking better of it.

“You should eat something.” Riddle chided. “You need those sorts of things, right? My, it must be so troublesome to still be mortal.” He gestured vaguely to the kitchen, playing out a conversation from more than a year ago as though it were yesterday. “I admire your determination. How is the restoration on the Diadem going? That’s where you should be putting your energy” He trailed, losing the train of thought, his eyes clouding in confusion as she pursed her lips and glared at him once again.

The wave hit him once again. He gave a hollow sigh and clutched at the locket once again. That voice within his mind was calling him. It knew him. It knew exactly what he needed. The icy sensation gripped at him from his heart. Yearning and fear, entwined and desperate.

“I missed you, Ava.” He whispered, his unfocused eyes locked on her. “Will you-”

“I didn’t miss you.” Ava snapped. Riddle might have been able to spot her lie if the voice would quiet down within his mind. Her glare was fiery, but he did not seem to notice that either. With an exasperated sigh she stepped forward and faced him directly. “But you’re not well are you?”

“I’m as fine as I have ever been.” Riddle replied, amused by the fact that this memory seemed to be quite new to him. For some reason, it had not yet faded away before his eyes as it usually did. Either way, he was enjoying his counterpart and the warm, reassuring feel of having another in his presence. “I’m fit and well, though your concern is appreciated.“

Riddle sat in the old living room, resplendent in his embroidered robes, a soft expression of confusion on his face as he gently squeezed Ava’s hand with his own. He gave her his most radiant smile yet, his voice becoming soft, comforting. He paused trying to hear his own thoughts through the longing pulling at the back of his mind. “It’s been so lovely having you here, my dear. Now…who are you?”

She stared blankly in return. There were a great many things to feel concerned over. All in all, she could bring herself to wonder why she couldn’t feel Riddle’s hand on her’s at all.

 

Part 8.5: Broken

She shouldn’t have come back.

Ava had to wonder if the object she had been promised was worth subjecting herself once again to the emotional and mental agony of the horcruxes. Each moment spent in their presence brought her closer and closer to the edge of insanity. She had already toyed with the line so much, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. But she had made an agreement, and she wasn’t one to go back on her word, even if it led to her destruction.

She could almost taste the air, stale with nostalgia, as she stood at the threshold of her flat. She took a deep breath and opened the door, expecting to return to the emptiness of her former flat. After all, she had taken everything with her when she left. There was nothing to return to, and yet a small feeling in her soul nudged her to return to the place she had called home for several years.

The door creaked open to reveal the last person she wanted to deal with, but at the same time exactly who she expected to see. Riddle stood in the middle of the room, looking lost and out of place in the vacancy of the flat. He had always looked better surrounded by beautiful things, even she couldn’t deny that. Her usual facade fell easily into place as he smiled at her, leaning against the doorframe. He chided her about the waste of her talents at her job as a waitress, reminding her that she was capable of so much more.

Icy mask momentarily forgotten, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. She hadn’t worked at the Leaky Cauldron in months. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly changed her mind. Let Riddle think what he wanted, she wasn’t going to waste her breath trying to correct him.

But then he continued his train of thought like a broken record, and she realized what was going on in his parroting of a conversation from almost a year ago. Riddle still hadn’t regained his memories. She only vaguely paid attention to his continued prattling, not needing to go through the conversation a second time. He would tell her she needed to eat something, as she was still mortal, and ask how her restoration of Cidarim was going. While he spoke, her expression settled itself into the same stony glare she always wore when dealing with him. She didn’t waver, even when his eyes seemed to glaze over and lose focus.

His unfocused eyes locked on her fiery ones. "I missed you, Ava,” he whispered. “Will you-”

“I didn’t miss you.” She cut him off. A lie, yes, but he didn’t know that. She was treading unfamiliar territory and couldn’t allow herself to feel anything, just in case things came flooding back to him. And yet…he looked so unsure, so out of place standing there. Almost…lost, in a way. Nothing like the man she had come to familiarize herself with. Despite what he and the others may have thought, she wasn’t heartless. She closed her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh before she stepped forward and faced him directly. “But you’re not well are you?”

“I’m as fine as I have ever been,” he replied in an amused sort of tone. As if he was intrigued by how this “memory” wasn’t the same one he thought he was in. Of course, what did he expect? Nothing about the situation was the same, from the significant lack of furniture and other items to Ava’s clothes to the words themselves. This was a reality, not a memory, no matter what Riddle’s broken mind told him. “I’m fit and well, though your concern is appreciated.“

He seemed to be enjoying her company and the warmth she gave to the room, seeing as he sat down on the remaining piece of furniture in the living room and pulled her to sit next to him. Too tired to argue or pull away, she let him take hold of her hand when she was next to him. The sooner she got through this, the sooner she could start trying to find Tom. His expression slowly changed to one of confusion as they sat there, as if someone had taken an eraser to his memories. He squeezed her hand gently, offering up a radiant smile like he used to once upon a time. Before Voldemort had driven him to insanity. His voice was soft and sweet when he finally spoke again, although the words themselves held a certain foreboding chill behind them. “It’s been so lovely having you here, my dear. Now…who are you?”

Out of all the thoughts swimming through her head, out of everything she should be concerned about, the only thing on her mind was the fact that she couldn’t feel Riddle’s hand on hers.

 

Part 9: Brother

Riddle wandered into Cidarim’s main chambers, glancing around him, eyes wide with curiosity at all of the sparkling jewels and golden jewelry cast carelessly about like useless candy wrappers. The Diadem-incarnate himself floated above the scene, as he always did, peering down at the newcomer, a distinct look of distaste crossing his pale features as he swooped down, just low enough to speak but high enough to be out of reach.  
Riddle gasped at the sudden entrance, stumbling a few steps backwards and locking eyes with his mirror self, noting the differences between them first. This young man was pristine, otherworldly, and entirely in control of himself. It was as though he had emerged from a dream, or a storybook. He was simply not of this world. Riddle gazed up at him, in the splendor of the fluid robes gathering around him in waves, gently caressing his body as they wrapped lovingly around his form, as his hair waved slowly as though caught in a perpetual breeze.

“How beautiful…” He murmured, reaching out his hand tentatively to greet him. Cidarim snarled and ascended a few extra inches for good measure. “ Either you’ve been in the giggle water again or it’s been too long since we last spoke about your asinine flirtations.” He snapped, glaring down at Riddle.

Riddle withdrew his hand, running his fingertip over his lips as though taking a moment to think. His eyes were unfocused as the amazement slowly slipped from his face. His colors looked slightly dulled next to the opulence surrounding. He seemed distinctly out of place among all of the finery. Cidarim seemed to notice for the first time that Riddle’s usual brocade jacket and vest were missing, and in their place, he wore a set of common, drab clothing in varying tones of grey. Riddle smiled a bit sadly up at Cidarim, the usual beauty and brilliance had faded significantly, as though he were too tired, too drained for anything more.

“I feel as though if I had met someone breathtaking like you, I should remember it.” He muttered, his teeth clenched in frustration. Cidarim paused. He had sensed something was off, but this…?

He swooped down, suddenly quite close to where Riddle stood, his eyes locking directly on to Riddle’s own, searching his mind for answers, only coming up with a handful of half formed memories, all out of order and displaced. Cidarim reached out, placing a hand over his his brother’s heart, concentrating hard. Riddle sighed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of the connection and the flow of energy even if he could not yet understand it.  
Cidarim’s calm, serene expression tightened. It almost seemed for a moment that he was holding back unbidden tears, but when he spoke again, his voice was even, strong, yet still gentle. “I told you not to become so attached to his lordship. I told you it would have consequences.”  
Riddle blinked at him. His form wavered, even despite the flow of power.

“You didn’t listen. You never listened. You found someone who gave you attention and you were blind to the consequences, to your greed and idiocy. Now, look at you. Look at you!” Cidarim hissed, suddenly becoming vicious. “You’re such a fool, Riddle!”

Riddle sighed softly, shaking his head. He placed his pale hands atop Cidarim’s, drinking in the sight of him so close to him for once. He moved one of his hands to rest on Cidarim’s cheek. “I have a feeling that seeing you fly this low is a rare occurrence.” He laughed softly. “I’m glad you’ve come down to see me though. If I had thought you were beautiful before, you’re even more stunning up close, I think.” He sighed longingly.

It only took a heartbeat of a moment before Riddle’s vague smile faded. His eyebrows drew together as he staggered back from the contact. He snapped his head around, wildly looking around as though being called from all sides. He moaned softly, somewhere between longing and fear before he retreated to the door once again. Even despite the wavering of his physical form, there was no hiding how his hands were trembling.

Cidarim slowly lowered the hand that had been resting on Riddle’s chest. His expression settling into it’s usual infallible, unreadable gaze. He remained there, watching as Riddle disappeared down the hallway, into the shadows. He knew exactly who had been calling him, as well as why. Riddle had every reason to be afraid.

“Brother…” He whispered.

 

Part 10:

"You belong to me.”  
——-  
A long spindle like finger lay over Riddle’s mouth. Hushing the harshness of the others words and all together halting any more demands and questions. The others whereabouts and company kept both imaginative and real dried up with that force silence. If it be more gentle then normal ways of hushing another up.

Voldemort lifted his finger with a coy look, “You do not even know The Dark Lord.”

He gave a cruel smile, “Now you are claiming ownership of what you know not anything about. Or so you claim ignorance to.”  
———  
Riddle had wondered where the words had come from. In all truthfulness, they had felt organic and angry all at once, as if he had wanted to claim dominion over the other for years but never could get the courage to do so. The feel of that cool fingertip against his lips chilled him to the bone, and yet, he could not find it within himself to back down.

“Educate me.” Riddle challenged, his confidence only skin deep, but his voice sounding forceful enough to make up for such a bluff. In truth, something told him that his counterpart could use power line he had never seen before, but he had to know how their connection had worked before….before….

His stream of consciousness faded, his thoughts and eyes became unfocused, before he shut them tight once again. A moment later he opened them and peered up at his counterpart.

“You belong to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Edit, 02/10/18: Freezepride has been added as a co-creator, as they are my lovely Riddle (locket) for this.


End file.
